


Saving Grace

by Bre95611



Series: Saving Grace [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Canon-adjacent, Demon!Dean, Dom/sub vibes, Fingering, Hunter/Legacy!Castiel, Hunter/Legacy!Sam, Legacy!Gabriel, M/M, Mark of Cain!Dean, Masturbation, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Men of Letters Legacies, Rim job, Rimming, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, some canon typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre95611/pseuds/Bre95611
Summary: 3 Years after witnessing his parents murder, Men of Letters legacy Castiel, with reluctant help from his brother Gabe, chases his parents’ murderer, a demon. Dean takes on the Mark of Cain to help avenge the death of his parents, but ultimately succumbs, becoming a demon, now in search of his lost brother, to break all ties to his remaining humanity. Can they both get what they want, will they destroy one another to find the vengeance they crave? Or will they save each other in the end?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: Saving Grace [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802533
Comments: 57
Kudos: 42
Collections: BottomDeanBigBang2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a baby of mine for a while. The first fanfic idea that I had, the very first long fic I have ever written. There are some thanks due:
> 
> My incredible beta, Katherine (ufonoparty on [tumblr](https://ufohnoparty.tumblr.com/)). I could not have done this without your amazing editing skills and your kind words of encouragement. Here's to holding each other accountable to finishing the goddamn sequels.
> 
> My amazing artist, Jennifer ([tumblr](https://jenniferb-art.tumblr.com/)). I have NEVER had artwork for something I've written before and it's truly been an honor to have you bring this story to life with your artwork.
> 
> Thank you to the creators of this bang for giving me a reason to finally write this story, and the deadlines making it impossible for me to come up with excuses to not.
> 
> And lastly, thank you to my wonderful husband, who is absolutely not a part of fandom, has actively encouraged and supported the nerdiest thing I've ever done, and for being a good sport when I ask him to act out fight scenes to make sure the mechanics make sense.

The dream started the same every time. Castiel was in the closet, but the overwhelming horror of the situation outweighed the irony. He could see his parents, Naomi with a gash on her forehead, bleeding profusely, Michael standing there, a hole in his chest from a weapon he couldn’t identify, despite his extensive training. He didn’t dare move, couldn’t breathe, knowing the demon would be after him next, if only he knew how close another warm body was.

Their living room looked different in the dreamscape, smaller and larger all at once. Castiel watched his parents stumble, running away from someone just out of sight. His father fell back onto the couch, finally succumbing to the blood loss of the chest wound. His mother put up a fight, so far only having sustained a minor head injury. Castiel watched her use every bit of knowledge she had gained from the Men of Letters, hand-to-hand combat, spell work, even what he recognized as the beginnings of an exorcism, enough that it should have put any regular demon on its ass in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t enough. He saw a shadow attack her, some sort of dagger plunging into her chest, nearly a matching wound to her husband. She breathed her last sprawled on the carpet, head tilted to the side, dead eyes staring through Castiel, deep into his soul. The sight would haunt him forever.

This is where the dream always changed. Sometimes, it ended right there, with Naomi’s blank stare filling Castiel’s vision; sometimes, he was forced to relive more of the memory; sometimes, he saw his parents’ killer.

Tonight was the latter.

A tall, slender man covered in blood walked fully into Castiel’s line of sight. Castiel was a grown man, had finished his training, surpassing his older brother Gabriel in combat _literally_ with his eyes closed. He shouldn’t have been hiding. But after watching his parents die right before his eyes, the fight was gone from his body. Frozen in place, he watched the stranger walk to Michael, and then to Naomi, pressing his fingers to their throat, and then, presumably after confirming their death, he stood to leave.

Castiel saw him walk out of his field of vision, saw him disappear into the next room over on his way out of the family’s house. He should have been more careful, but when you watch your parents die in front of you, caution is thrown to the wind in the worst of ways. He snapped out of his frozen stupor, years of training kicking in where rational thought couldn’t be found. He threw open the closet door, ignoring the resounding THUD of it hitting the wall, and ran to his parents’ lifeless bodies. Tears were leaving stains down his cheeks, his heart was pounding out of his chest, but none of it mattered. All Castiel could think about was catching up to the masculine shadow, the domineering figure that had just come into Castiel’s life and destroyed it in a matter of minutes. He rounded the corner from the living room, using every ounce of his will to not turn and look at his parents’ still bodies lying haphazardly in the quaint family room. The room where Castiel took his prom pictures, where he and Gabe wore matching sweaters for the holiday card.

He flew through the kitchen, out the back door, onto the porch, and froze. The demon was there. And up close, he was a different creature altogether. Where most demons Castiel had encountered thus far were dirty, and obviously inhuman to someone taught since birth to recognize the signs, this man was different. He was dirty, but not from the sulfur, ash, and brimstone of Hell. And God, was he _beautiful._ Freckles dusted every inch of visible skin, a constellation adorning his nose and cheeks. His eyes were greener than summer grass, glistening in the full moon of the mid September night. Castiel couldn’t hide the gasp that escaped him, stunned by the beauty of the man in front of him. 

The demon looked up from where he was standing, looking down at his blood red hands, almost as if he couldn’t believe the atrocities they had committed that night, just minutes earlier. His eyes locked with Castiel’s, and he felt like he had been sucker punched, a hollow but too full at the same time feeling settling in Castiel’s gut when his eyes connected with this abomination. He was stunned into utter inaction. He could do nothing but stand there and watch as the demon swore under his breath, his voice gravel leveled by the smoothest whiskey, reaching into the pocket of his jeans before setting off at full speed around the corner and down the deceptively residential road. All it would take was one shout, and a dozen Men of Letters would be rushing out of their houses, ready to fight. But Castiel was done. He had just watched the murder of half his remaining, tight knit family. And the murderer was a literal Adonis, possessed by a demon. He had no clue how to make himself move from his defensive stance on the back porch, let alone what to do from there. He needed to call Gabriel. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do...

Castiel woke with a jump. He sat up, breathing heavily, hair flattened to his neck and forehead with sweat. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check the time, throwing it to the bed in mild annoyance upon seeing it was nearly one in the afternoon. Close enough to the time his alarm was set for, but not early enough to attempt falling back asleep, he threw the covers off his body and reluctantly climbed out of bed.

After a shower and a quick breakfast, Castiel headed down the stairs of the apartment he shared with Gabriel to the bar they shared ownership of as well. He was early for the actual start of his shift, but he knew his brother wouldn’t mind the company. If nothing else, he knew being around his big brother would calm his nerves after the abrupt wake up. Giving polite nods and waves to the couple kitchen staff members that were standing around, Cas could tell they weren’t too busy for a Thursday afternoon. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved it would be an easy shift, or disappointed that he would have plenty of time to dwell on his thoughts.

When he walked into the dining room, he immediately went behind the bar, assuming Gabriel would be there. There were a handful of guests, most congregating around the pool tables and dart boards, none paying him any mind. He greeted the handful of regulars sitting around the bar that acknowledged his presence, but most of them kept to themselves. Looking around, Cas didn’t see his brother, and wondered briefly where he had gotten to.

“Give ya three guesses where he got off to, brotha,” a familiar voice drawled. Cas looked up to see Benny, a regular at the roadhouse. His Cajun accent was instantly recognizable. When he caught Cas’s eye, he jerked his head over his shoulder to the right.

“Shit. Thursday.” Cas joined Benny in a quiet chuckle as he grabbed a rag and went to refill the empty glass in front of the Louisiana native. Cas looked across the way, and sure enough, there Gabe was.

Every Thursday, like clockwork, Gabe’s self-proclaimed soulmate came in. Comically tall, especially compared to Gabriel, long brown hair a contrast to Gabe’s short golden locks, serious to combat Gabe’s constant jokes and pranks, they were complete opposites. But Gabe was drawn to the younger man, and never failed to flirt until there was a permanent blush stained on the poor kid’s cheeks.

“Let’s see if I can save my brother any further embarrassment today,” Cas threw the bar towel over his shoulder, and winked at Benny as he made his way behind the bar to the opposite end, where he was leaned over a corner booth.

“Gabe, I tell you this every week, leave the poor guy alone. You know he’s got his studying to do,” Cas said, throwing an arm around his brother where he stood against the corner of the table. Gabe looked up at him, a wide smile on his face that seemed ever present when the college student was here.

“And I’ll keep telling you every week. Keith here sure doesn’t mind the interruption, do ya?” Gabe looked back to Keith and threw him a wink, smile growing even wider at the darkening pink across his cheeks.

Keith ran his fingers through his hair before looking up at Cas. 

"It's really fine. I, uh...don't really mind it. Gives me an excuse to take a break, ya know." He smiled up at Gabriel, too wrapped up in young love to give a single shit about Castiel being there.

Cas rolled his eyes, despite the objects of his exasperation having eyes only for each other, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Sit down Gabe, I'll take over the bar a little early for ya. You're useless once loverboy comes in anyway." He slapped his brother on the back, shook his head, and walked off, giving the two their privacy.

As much shit as he gave Gabriel, he really was happy for him. He had no clue if this...thing with Keith actually would amount to anything real, but he was glad his brother was happy in the meantime. And the kid seemed nice enough. A little older than college-age, insinuating he was either going back to school, or pursuing some higher level degree than your average Bachelor’s. Regardless of Keith's school situation, he was pleased Gabe was going after someone a bit more put together. God forbid they have to deal with another situation like they did with that British dick, Balthazar. What the fuck kind of name even is that? Castiel shook his head thinking back on what a train wreck _that_ had been for his big brother. If he never had to see a crying Gabriel again, it would be too soon.

Castiel made his way back behind the bar, cleaning up as he went. The night went basically as it always did. The only outlier being Keith staying a bit later and having a few more drinks than usual. The laptop seemed to get put away a bit earlier too. Seemed like Gabe was making some progress!

When all the patrons had finally left for the night, and Cas was finished with all the standard closing procedures, he made his way back through the kitchen and up the stairs to the shared apartment. He locked the door behind him before kicking his shoes off as he threw his keys into the bowl by the table.

“Cassie!” Gabe must have heard him come in. Normally Gabe would be asleep by now, considering he opens the bar more often than not. Maybe Charlie was working in the morning, allowing Gabe the ability to stay up a little later for once.

“Castiel, get your ass in the living room. Now.” Cas froze. Gabe never called him by his full name. Something was wrong. He pushed down the bile beginning to creep up his esophagus. They had worked so hard at the life they had built here. He thought they were done running. Cas wanted to be done running. 

He rounded the corner into the living room and saw his brother sprawled over the whole room. There was a laptop open on the coffee table, books in piles across the room, maps laid out over the couch and the recliner in the corner. Gabe looked up at him, a crazed glint in his eye, a pleased smile spreading across his face as he met his younger brother’s eye. Castiel’s heart stopped at his brother’s next words.

“I found him.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Cassie! Did you hear me? I  _ fucking _ found him.” Gabe was vibrating with excitement, practically bouncing where he sat on the floor behind the coffee table. Cas couldn’t move. They’d been looking for him for three goddamn years. All they could really find was the trail. They were so far behind him, playing catch up for months. Sure, there had been close calls, finding a town he had just left behind, but by the time they figured out where he had gone next, he was two cities ahead.

“Are you sure? Where the hell is he? I can head there tonight, do some looking when I get there. Lord knows it shouldn’t be hard to find that fucking  _ car _ once I’m there.” He was already planning the trip, taking a mental inventory on everything he would need to grab, trying to recall if his car had gas in the tank, he’d probably need to stop regardless for coffee considering he just worked essentially a twelve hour shift, he’d have to call in Charlie to cover his shifts, and-

“Castiel! Jesus Christ will you  _ listen to me? _ ” While Cas was lost in his internal planning, Gabe stood and was directly in front of him, hands on his shoulders, shaking him to get his attention. “He’s  _ here.  _ He’s in Lebanon.”

Castiel was having a heart attack. He must be at the rate it was beating right then. There was no way Gabe was correct. There are barely 200 people in Lebanon! The demon loves smaller towns, but not  _ that  _ small. What the fuck was he doing? Hunting them? He must be. How else would he be in this town, what motive for deviating from his standard MO? He had finally tracked down the remaining family members, and was going to finish what he started three years ago. At least they’ve found him now; they can get to him first. But they needed to double check their go bags. If it all went south, they couldn’t be caught off guard. Had to be ready to run again.

Wait.

Why did his face hurt?

Did Gabe just….

_...slap him? _

“Gabe, what the  _ actual fuck?”  _ Gabe had never laid a hand on him outside of their practice spars. And even then, Cas kicked his ass relentlessly.

“You broke there for a second, Cassie. I’ve been calling your name for, like, five whole minutes. Look, he isn’t here for us. He has made no moves that would suggest he has any clue who we are or that we live in town. He’s been asking some questions about some kid named Sam, saying he’s an FBI agent looking for some kid that went missing a few years back. So I think we have a few routes we can take. If you would  _ sit down _ , we could figure out a game plan. I have a pretty good idea of where he is staying.”

*

Cas sat down next to his brother at the dining room table, two fresh cups of coffee in hand. Gabe didn't even acknowledge him as he immediately began drinking down the coffee like a man in the desert finally finding water. They had been up all night, making plans, double checking Gabe's recon of the abandoned church on the outskirts of town. They had blueprints, a route through the building mapped out, and the beginnings of a list of supplies.

Cas felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Charlie was finally calling him back.

"Alright, Novak. This had better be pretty damn good. What could you possibly need that could warrant a voicemail at four in the morning?"

"Unfortunately, too much. Can you cover some shifts for me the next couple of days?" Charlie's main business, freelance website design, allowed her plenty of wiggle room when it came to picking up shifts for Cas. He only called her when he had to leave town for a hunt, or, in less frequent situations, when her hacking was needed. And sometimes he called for both reasons. "I need your special skills, too. What information can you get me on a ‘Sam Winchester?’"

"One, of course. And two, you'll have to hang on a sec. You know I need coffee before I hack a government database. Where should I look first?"

Cas could hear a rustling in the background, presumably Charlie actually getting out of bed.

"FBI would be a good place to start." 

"Ooo, is this for your super secret mystery project? You know, if you just told me what this was all about, I could tailor my searches and it would be so much more helpful."

Cas sighed. Charlie was like a sister to him, but fuck, if she wasn't the nosiest person alive. Surely just a symptom of years being able to access literally anyone's anything due to much above average technological prowess. She knew nothing about Cas and Gabriel's history. After their parents' death, they used every Men of Letters resource to scrub their entire existence from every database that had ever existed. They met Charlie shortly after relocating to Kansas from Illinois, and she was kind enough to double check their work for them, setting up a search, and turning her back as they put in their names and faces to ensure every bit of them was completely gone.

"I know, I know, none of my business. I'm just saying. Let me mainline some coffee real quick and I'll give you a call when I find something." There was a click as Charlie ended the call. Cas made his way back to the dining room where Gabe was hunkered down over a map of the wooded area behind the church. When Cas sat back down, his head snapped up, a crazed look in his eye.

"I know how to get you in."

*

They spent the next hour while waiting for Charlie to call back formulating a plan for Cas. Gabe had found a tunnel, an abandoned sewage line, that connected into the basement of the church. It was far enough away that Castiel could get to it unnoticed, but close enough where he could watch the church for the demon, knowing when he would leave, so Cas could get into the building and set up a trap for him.

Since they had established a rough outline of a plan, Gabe finally took his leave to get a few more hours of sleep in before he had to open the bar. Cas took a quick shower, allowing the scalding hot water to breathe a second wind into him. He made a fresh pot of coffee and got to work memorizing the blueprints of the church. The demon never stayed anywhere for too long, so they had to act fast.

He was in the middle of his first effort to redraw the church plans from memory when his phone rang. Charlie.

“What did you find?” Castiel answered with a hurry. Knowing what had brought the demon to Lebanon could change the entirety of their plan. They could continue to hunt or become the hunted based on whatever Charlie had found.

“Geez, Cas. When was the last time you slept? You sound real rough, buddy.” Charlie, chipper as ever, grated on his extremely frayed nerves. Something akin to a growl slipped out of him. He did not have time for this.

“ _ Charlie _ , _ ”  _ He warned.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I found him. This was a fun one. Give me jobs like this more often,” Cas could hear the clack of her keyboard through the phone’s speaker, “I’m emailing you everything I found. I’ll walk you through it.”

Cas rushed to pull up his email, countless typos caused by his shaking hands. This could be a huge break. They could be safe. Cas could finish this.

“I’m there, Charlie.”

“Cool, so first you’ll see some pictures. This is Sam Winchester, a.k.a. human puppy dog. Grew up not too far from here in Lawrence, Kansas. Normal enough life. Until 6 months before his 8th birthday and he absolutely disappears. There was a fire at his childhood home, Mom didn’t make it. About a week later, John, the dad, pulls him and his brother out of school, and the three of them are never heard from again.” Cas takes in the pictures on his computer screen. A sweet child with shaggy brown hair falling in his face, smiling at school picture day. A newspaper clipping, Mary Winchester’s obituary. A family photo. John Winchester and his two sons. Sam and his older brother, four years apart. The family home in flames.

“What about the brother? Where is he?” Cas flicked through the documentation, birth certificates, school transcripts. Yearbook photos. Until Sam was 8, and then there is nothing.

“Disappeared the same time. And, Cas, they are _ nowhere _ . I have searched through literally every database that exists. And they are gone. I’m working through facial recognition software now, but that will take a while. He’d be what, twenty-eight now? Aging programs are tricky at best. But, I’m still working on it. And I’ll let you know if something hits. I’ll see you tonight though! Maybe some girl talk, and you can tell me what this is all about?” He could hear the sly smile in her voice, he knew what she was getting at. He couldn’t risk it.

“I’ll see you tonight, Charlie. Thank you.” He heard her continue to speak as he hung up. Something about how  _ that wasn’t a no! _

He laughed under his breath and continued to click through all the pictures Charlie had found. He flipped through the pictures of the brother in middle school. Looked through their histories. Not a thing outside of the standard. What would the demon want with them? This perfect, apple pie family. Sports and Chess Club for the brothers. He looked into Mary Winchester’s death. A fire. Middle of the night. The police report called it an accident, but John was loud. Multiple articles in the news following the fire quoting John saying there was a man in his son’s room. That this unknown intruder murdered his wife. And then, like Charlie had said, nothing a week after. Closed bank accounts, right after the insurance check had been deposited. Of course.

Cas stood and stretched, after he had hunched over his computer for the last - he glanced at his watch - 4 hours or so. Gabe would be awake soon. He wrote a note to his brother, passing on cliff notes for what Charlie had discovered, and instructions to look through the email on his laptop. Eighteen hours. Cas had been awake for eighteen hours. He forced himself to pull away from the kitchen table and go to bed. As much as he wanted to continue, there was nothing more he could do right now, especially in his current sleep-deprived state. He laid in bed, heart pounding with the knowledge of how close he was to getting this. How close to getting the son of a bitch that murdered his parents. When he fell asleep, it was with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. 

*

“I think one day of recon is more than enough, Gabe. You know he moves on quickly. There isn’t enough time.” Cas was pacing frantically across the living room. As soon as the demon vacated the church, he had to go in. He knew the building plans better than the back of his hand. He knew how long it would take him to get to the basement room that he would be setting up the devil’s trap in. He could draw one in his sleep, would take him no time at all to set up for whenever the demon would return. The demon could get to the end of the abandoned drive leading away from the church, realize he forgot his wallet, and Cas would still have time to spare when he finally got back to the church’s front door. 

This was an age old disagreement between the brothers. When Gabe officially left The Life in his late 20s, too many hunts gone wrong, too many lives lost, he became overprotective of his only remaining family. Cas was always being too reckless in his eyes. Never enough research, plan never fool-proof enough. Things had changed with their parents’ death. Not wanting to “fuel the revenge machine” Gabe kept a decided distance from physically hunting, but still did everything he could from the sidelines.

“Cassie, he’s a  _ demon. _ You have no idea how long you will have. What if something goes wrong? No guarantee of how long he’ll be gone, means no guarantee of how long you’ll have. You’re not going to put yourself in harm’s way over a rookie mistake like this!” Gabe held his ground, shoulders back and chin up. Cas had never seen him look so tall.

“I’m going tonight. That’s final. Stop me if you want. Means you’ll have to leave this goddamn bar though.” Cas stormed to his room to pack for the day ahead. 

His hunting bag was fairly well stocked, spray paint, salt, a mass of general weapons. Grabbing the bag, he headed to his car, pointedly ignoring Gabriel sulking in the corner. It had been a low blow, Cas would own up to that, but he needed to hear it.

*

Castiel had been walking for under an hour when he saw it.

A black, 1967 Chevrolet Impala.


	3. Chapter 3

His heart was racing, feeling like it would burst out of his chest. Cas had done it. The demon was here, and all it would take was patience and execution to end this. Cas was so close to being able to move on with his life, he could almost taste it.

He was still deep enough in the wooded area surrounding the abandoned church that he didn't worry about being spotted. He was coming up on the sewer tunnel's entrance, but there was that car, beautiful in its classic engineering, and the bane of Castiel's existence. The car was the only tangible information they had on the demon, and here it was, parked in front of the church, a siren's call to Cas's weary, revenge-fueled heart. 

He dropped his duffel in front of the tunnel opening, beginning to prepare for the trek inside. He wouldn't have time to pull out what he needed when he got inside the church, time being the deciding factor of the plan's success. He loaded his pistol, attached his favorite knife in its holster to his calf, pulling his jeans down to cover it. He refilled his flask with holy water, and strapped himself with miscellaneous weaponry that he most likely wouldn't need, but he'd be damned if he wasn't over prepared. He had extra rock salt rounds in his jacket pocket for the shotgun slung across his back and an extra clip for his handgun in his back pocket. He was as ready as he'd ever be. Now he just had to wait. He picked his binoculars up from the bottom of his duffel and prepared himself to wait for as long as it took. He ran through the plan in his mind, the tunnel a straight shot into the bowels of the church. Up the stairs, take a right, second door on the left. Salt the exits, draw the devil's trap, wait for the demon to return.

Cas caught movement at the edge of the binoculars, drapery in an upstairs window of the church shifting as if someone had just been there, looking out across the grounds. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait too much longer to make his move. He was preparing to make a run for it down the tunnel when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Normally, Cas wouldn't answer when he was in the middle of a hunt, but a quick glance at the caller ID informed him Charlie was calling back. She might have more information for him. She might have something that would change the entirety of his plan.

“Find out anything else, Charlie? I don’t have long to talk.” He spoke softly, afraid even the slightest noise would give away his position to the demon, regardless of the distance between them.

“Cas, I love you, but we’ve really gotta work on your phone etiquette,” Charlie snarked.

He could hear the clacking of her keyboard in the background, the excited lilt to her voice. She absolutely found something else.

He held his breath, waiting for her to continue. “I found Sam Winchester. And you’re  _ never _ going to believe where he is!” He felt his phone vibrate in his hand. “Check your phone.

He pulled the phone away from his face and glanced back up at the church, the Impala still parked out front. Cas had time. He opened up the email from Charlie, pulse racing, sweat starting to gather on the small of his back in anticipation.

He heard Charlie’s tinny, muffled voice coming from the phone, asking if he was still there as he navigated to his email. There, in Charlie’s email was a black and white yearbook picture, a group of 20-somethings gathered together, arms around shoulders and waists, smiling at the camera. It was a club outing, something about a park cleanup. They were all wearing matching Stanford environmental club shirts, and along the bottom of the picture was a list of names, the people depicted in the picture. _ Stanford Pre-Law Class of 2014, Environmental Clean Up Program, March 2012. _

Cas looked at the names, and there he was. Sam Winchester, second row, third from the left.

He felt his stomach turn when he found him in the picture. He knew that face. He couldn’t have been more than 20 years old then, but he definitely recognized the man in the photo. Shaggy brown hair, the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. It was  _ Keith. _ Why was the demon looking for him? Why was he going by a different name. And god, if that didn’t just completely confirm that the demon was in Lebanon for them. Keith, Sam, whoever he really was, he came in  _ every week. _ Like fucking clock work. Cas couldn’t breathe. He needed time to think, but he didn’t have time. He was there, ready to make a move on the demon that killed his parents. He glanced up, searching for the Impala. Still there. He needed to forward this to Gabe. Gabe needed to know. He needed to pack up and leave. This opened up too many questions, too many things they needed to figure out. Gabe was right, he shouldn’t have rushed to the church like this. They needed to regroup.

“Holy shit,” Cas breathed, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“Holy shit is right!” Charlie said. “You need to talk to Gabe ASAP!”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Cas said and hung up.

He crouched down by his duffel bag and began packing it back up. He threw the strap over his shoulder, turning away to head back to his car, hidden across the way. 

He felt something collide with the back of his head, hard, and then everything went black.

*

When Cas came to, he couldn’t move, his hands and feet tied to a metal chair. Though still groggy from the hit to the back of his head, he tried to take stock of where he was. He wished he had done more recon, as per Gabriel’s insistence, but at least he knew exactly what part of the decrepit old church he was in and could quickly plot his escape route. Up the stairs and around the corner would have him free from the dungeon-like storage room. Now to get himself untied…

“Come on, sweetheart. Just because I’m a bottom, doesn’t mean I’m a sub. I know my knots, and your sweet ass is staying right where I want you.” 

Castiel was entranced by the voice, turning his head to try and find the source. It must be the demon. He saw a figure move in the shadows and realized he was right, that the demon had been hiding out here. He had let Charlie’s discovery blind him to his surroundings. He’d gotten distracted, and the demon took advantage of that.

The demon stepped from the dark corner and Cas’s breath caught in his throat. After all this time searching, he had finally found the monster. And now he was going to die. Just like his parents.

_ Fuck. _

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” he asked, walking closer. His sandy hair seemed longer than Cas remembered, but there was no doubt that this was the man he had seen that night. Bright green eyes, a constellation of freckles, bowed legs causing a confident swagger with every step forward. Castiel was stunned into silence. This moment, so surreal, was what he’d been looking forward to, the chance to right the wrongs made that night. And all his work would be for nothing, tied to a chair. If he could just get his hands free, he might have a chance.

“Alright then, I’ll go first. I’m Dean. And who the fuck are you?” The demon - Dean - bent down in front of him, his face close enough that Castiel could count his freckles if he wanted. 

Cas was filled with rage at this feigned ignorance. He spit in the demon’s face and felt satisfaction as a trail of saliva dripped off Dean’s long eyelashes. A growl ripped from his throat as he pulled away and wiped his face with the back of his hand. His eyes opened to reveal solid black as he grabbed a handful of Castiel’s hair and pulled back, exposing his throat.

“You gotta buy me dinner first if you’re thinking about getting  _ that  _ dirty. Now, I asked you a question. Who. The fuck. Are you?” The fist in his hair tightened and jerked, adding emphasis to every word.

“Like you don’t know,” Castiel spat out at him from between gritted teeth. He’d pay for what he did. 

Dean released his hold, eyes sliding back to their natural green. Laughing, he turned his back, giving Cas an opportunity to try freeing himself from his bonds. As he bent his wrist in an effort to loosen the rope, Dean spoke again.

“Now I wouldn’t forget a face that pretty. Why don’t you tell me your name and then why you’re convinced I know who you are?” He was standing near another chair, leaning on the back with his hips cocked to one side. Cas could feel the rope beginning to give, ever so slightly. 

“My name is Castiel. You killed my parents.” He tried to betray as little emotion as possible, giving Dean no reason to turn back around. He was not expecting to see the demon doubled over in laughter.

“Prepare to die?” Dean snorted, and turned his attention to a nearby table, Castiel’s weapons strewn across its surface. Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

The demon laughed even harder, thankfully choosing to keep his back to Castiel, who was still trying to break free of his binds

“ _ The Princess Bride _ ? Really?" he shakes his head, "Sorry, sweetheart. I ain’t that easy. Sucks about your folks, but that doesn’t really help. I’ve killed plenty of people’s parents,” he exhaled a dark laugh, “People in general, really. What’s so special about you?” Working his right hand out of the rope, quickly and quietly, Cas tracked the demon’s every movement. Dean moved his fingers over the arsenal Cas had carried, as if caressing his choice in weapons. The demon picked up a gun and began disassembling it as Cas worked on untying his left hand now that his right was free.

“Beside those pretty blue eyes and a very fuckable mouth, you don’t seem all that special to me.” Dean had moved on to the knives, picking up Castiel’s favorite and twirling it around. Cas pushed aside a remark in favor of finishing untying his ankles. Dean stood only a few feet ahead of him, directly between the stairs leading to freedom. He’d have to confront him. Without a single weapon. Great. 

“You’re weirdly quiet too. I like my men a little more... _ vocal _ .” The demon jeered.

Cas moved forward carefully, trying to position himself in a way that he could disarm Dean from behind, grabbing the knife from him and being able to make a break for it. He decided to try and catch him off guard.

“Would this be a bad time to mention my lack of a gag reflex?” He saw Dean freeze at the suggestive comment, whispered roughly into Dean’s ear, and took advantage. He grabbed the demon’s wrist, twisting sharply to make him release his already slack grip on the knife. He pulled the demon’s arm all the way behind his back, and pivoted him around into a nearby wall, pinning him against the cool stone. The tip of the knife dug into Dean’s neck.

“That’s more like it. I was wondering how much longer it was going to take you to get out.” Castiel could hear the smug grin on Dean’s face, despite their current position making it impossible to see. “Now let me go and the real fun can start.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Cas said, not understanding what this demon was talking about. He knew he could slip the binds? Why would he let him get free? Why the whole show?

“September 18th.”

With those two words, Castiel broke. He grabbed Dean by the back of his skull and slammed his face full force into the stone wall, before letting him drop to the ground. Castiel flipped him onto his back, straddled his hips, and landed blow after blow. If he knew this entire time who Castiel was, then why the games? What benefit was there to pretending he didn't know who Castiel is?

Dean looked up at him, one eye beginning to swell, blood covering his mouth and presumably broken nose, and smiled. “You look so pretty smacking me around. I'd definitely switch for you.” He winked at Cas the best he could before thrusting his hips up, knocking Cas off balance enough to allow the demon the ability to roll on top of him. Pinned down, Cas looked up at him helplessly, straining as much as he could in an effort to get free, but the demon's strength was too much for him. He watched as the open wounds on Dean's face healed, leaving the blood drying on his face.

“Now let's have a little chat, huh, sunshine? Think you can keep your hands off me that long?” Dean laughed as he pulled the knife from Castiel's hand and pressed it to his throat. “I know exactly who you are. I remember seeing you that night. But what I don't understand is why you're so convinced it was me that killed your folks. Don't get me wrong, I'm a killer, but I own up to my work, and that,  _ Castiel _ , was not me. So we're gonna play a little game, now that you've had a chance to get some of that rage out of your system. I'm gonna ask a few questions, and you're gonna tell me the answers. And if you're a good boy, I might even let you ask a few yourself.” The question of compliance was apparent in the look he gave and Cas was as pinned by the look as he was the demon's thighs boxing his hips. He stared the demon down (or up, if you will).

He knew he couldn’t trust the demon,  _ any _ demon, but there was something. Something about  _ this  _ demon’s eyes. Cas couldn’t place it, but he knew those eyes. He also knew he needed to give himself time. Give himself an opportunity to escape. 

"Why should I trust you?"

Dean laughed. "You shouldn't. But door number two has you laying here dead behind it, so you don't really have a choice, do you? I don't want to kill you, waste of a pretty face, but I'm not done having fun topside yet, and I'm selfish enough to want to save my ass. So what'll it be, handsome? Gonna use your words? Or go back to using fists?" He looked down at Cas expectantly, the glint in his eye proving he knew exactly what decision Cas would make.

"Alright. What do you want to know?" 

Dean shifted his weight back, removing the knife from Castiel's skin. He stood and strutted back to the table of weapons, placing the knife back right in the spot he had picked it up from. He turned to Cas and offered him a hand. Castiel declined the help, pushing himself up off the dusty concrete. Dean smirked at him as he leaned up against the wall Castiel had him pinned against just moments ago, crossing his arms in front of himself. He gave Cas a second to compose himself, brushing the dirt from his clothes before he spoke.

"How did you find me?"

Cas snorted at the inquiry. "You're not exactly subtle. Always rock aliases. Bar fights, broken hearts and bones. You follow major highways to small towns, but this town is smaller than where you normally would have stopped. But that car you drive is about as recognizable as it gets, didn’t take long to spot it. Most people think you're compensating for something with it."

The demon barked out his laughter. "Oh, sunshine, I don't have to compensate for a damn thing. I just have a profound appreciation for fine American machinery. Don't talk bad about my Baby. But I see your point. You're a lot smarter than I gave you credit for. How long have you been tracking me?"

"Since that night. I didn't have much to go on, but obviously it was enough."

"Maybe you're not that smart, then. Took you so long to find me. And I wasn't necessarily hiding. Well. Not from you anyway." Dean sounded wistful, almost sad about whoever he  _ was _ trying to stay hidden from. Castiel filed that away for later, unable to connect too many pieces with the haze of possible concussion looming.

The change from his typical cocksure attitude didn't last long. "Who else knows you're here?" Dean took a few slow steps closer to where Cas was standing in the middle of the room, arms dropping to his sides. Cas held his ground, attempting the impression of calm in the wake of the predatory look in Dean's eyes. If it came to a fight, Cas knew he would lose, his strength no match for a demon’s. If he could get to his knife, he might have a shot of at least escaping unharmed.

Mostly.

Dean couldn't have been more than a foot away from him, so close Cas could feel his breath on his skin. He saw Dean's eyes flick down to his lips, unconsciously darting his tongue out to wet his own. Cas felt his lips part, amazed at the green of the demon’s eyes, in awe of the amount of freckles dusting his skin, still visible beneath smeared blood.

"I asked you a question, sweetheart," Dean's voice was pitched deeper then, barely a whisper now that they were so close. Cas felt his breath catch in his throat.

"No one." He barely recognized his own voice, rough with desire he couldn't explain. 

This man, this  _ demon _ killed his parents. What was wrong with him that he was excited at their proximity, at the gravelly drawl and innuendo hidden in his tone?

Dean's face inched ever closer to Castiel's, slowly, painfully. Cas tried to force himself to move, but it was as if he was still tied to that chair, unable to pull away, even if his life depended on it. The implication of Dean's question was not lost on him, no one to save him, no one to come looking for him if Dean chose to tie him back up and leave him for dead. Of course, it wasn’t true, but it behooved him to have Dean think it was.

Cas’s thoughts ran away from him, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It danced across his mind that maybe being tied back up by Dean wouldn’t be so bad. Even bloodied and bruised, the demon was gorgeous. Castiel had never hated himself more than in that moment.

"Awesome," Dean purred as he finally closed what little distance was still left between their lips. Cas felt like he'd been shocked, lit up like a live wire. He gasped, lips parting slightly, allowing Dean's tongue entrance. He felt him moan through his whole body, sending a shiver down his spine. And just as quickly as it had started, the kiss was over. He felt Dean pull away, but couldn't shake the fog enough to open his eyes just yet. 

"I'll see ya 'round, Cas."

When Cas opened his eyes, Dean was gone. 


	4. Chapter 4

Cas made it back to the bar quickly. He felt defeated. He felt disgusted. He felt more and more confused every second. Still, there was that nagging thought in the back of his mind, that there was something he should  _ know. _ Some connection that he needed to make. He walked in through the front doors, knowing he needed a drink, or several, before he could even begin to process the last 48 hours or so of his life. He needed to remember the bits and pieces he was forgetting from before he was captured.

He had to  _ apologize _ to Gabe.

The roadhouse wasn’t set to open for another hour or so, giving Cas hope that he wouldn’t have to immediately interact with his brother, but that hope was quickly abandoned when he saw Gabe standing behind the bar, cutting lemons to prepare for the night. He glanced up from his task, the standard playful light in his eyes gone. As Cas got closer, he set the knife aside, wiped his hands on the towel pulled from the back pocket of his jeans, and set two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey out on the bar top.

“Gabe-” Cas began to say, before Gabe held his hand up, pouring a sizable amount of liquor into each glass with the other. Cas reached out to grab one, raising it lightly in thanks before knocking it on the table and tossing it back as Gabe did the same. He bit back a groan at the burn in the back of his throat, accepting the content warmth that began creeping into his stomach, despite the day’s events. Gabe recovered from the shot first.

“I’m sorry, Cassie. I know I’m protective and unhelpful. I know you’re good at what you do, and I have no business throwing in my two cents if I’m not going to be out there with you.” He didn’t break eye contact once and continued to hold it as he waited for Castiel’s response.

“I’m sorry, too, Gabe. That was a low blow, and I didn’t mean it,” Gabe began to pour new shots. “Besides, you were right. I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t prepared.” Cas threw back the shot glass again. Gabe looked up at him curiously, waiting silently for an explanation.

"He got away." Cas could hear how defeated he sounded. 

He knew Gabe thought he was too hard on himself, but nothing could keep the desolation out of his voice now. He had been so close, could have had him. But he let Dean get away for the worst reason. Because he let himself get caught, distracted. He let a demon  _ kiss him _ . He was disgusted by himself, by his actions.

"Well, then you keep looking. You've gotten close before. Every time that piece of shit has slipped through your fingertips; it's never stopped you. Why should it now?"

"You don't understand, Gabriel. He knows I’m after him. Knows how I've been tracking him. He won't be so careless anymore." Cas felt like an idiot. 

He had fallen for Dean’s tricks without hesitation. He told him everything he would need to know to avoid capture in the future. Castiel had just blown every chance he would ever have to get the son of a bitch.

And he could still feel the ghost of Dean’s lips on his.

Castiel shook his head, as if he could shake the thought out of himself. He took the next shot his brother had poured him. He looked up from the bar, eyes barely able to meet his brother’s.

“Cassie, what happened? I’ve never seen you like this after a hunt. Not even some of those times you got pretty close to this guy. I know I’ve said I can’t help aid the revenge machine, but I hate seeing you like this, little bro. If you need me to tag along as back up next time, I can.” Gabe’s eyes shone in concern, the corners of his mouth turning down in the beginnings of a frown. 

Cas didn’t know how he could bring himself to confess what happened, even to his brother, the only other person he had in this world. He tried to brush it off, breaking the eye contact Gabriel seemed intent on maintaining. He knew he would have to say something to get him off his back, but he couldn’t tell him the whole truth. He was too  _ ashamed _ of the whole truth. He let out a steadying breath before he began on the abridged version of the hours since he stormed out of the apartment.

He told Gabe everything he could remember, getting to the church and seeing the Impala. Watching and waiting for the demon to leave, and being caught from behind, hit over the head. Coming to inside the church tied up, getting free. For the most part, Cas could tell the truth. He could see the flash of disappointment on his brother's face when he said how he made a deal with him and paused in his tale for another shot of whiskey, using the burn of the liquor as it coated his throat as a form of self-flagellation.

"Well was it worth it? Did you get any information outta him?" Gabe was doing a wonderful job of masking his disgust at Castiel's actions. He seemed more worried than anything.

Cas couldn't meet his gaze. Staring into his empty shot glass, he shook his head. 

"Look, I know you're beating yourself up right now. But you gotta cut that shit out. It isn't healthy. All you can do is move on. You'll either catch up to him one day, or you won't. But regardless, none of this is gonna bring Mom and Dad back." 

Cas finally raised his eyes from where he was staring a hole into the bar and looked at his brother. He knew Gabe was right, but he couldn't help how he felt right now. Maybe if Gabe knew the full story, he wouldn't be so...  _ zen  _ about all of this. Maybe he would see the disgust he felt with himself mirrored back in Gabriel's golden eyes. But Cas knew he couldn't tell him any more.

"Yeah, Gabe. You're right." Cas resigned himself to his fate of pretending that kiss never happened. And if Gabe could hear the fake acceptance in his voice, he mercifully chose to not comment. 

Cas heaved himself up from the bar stool, threw back one more shot of the cheap whiskey, and began to walk back to the kitchen doors behind the bar to the stairs there.

As he climbed up to the apartment, he couldn’t stop thinking about all the bits that just didn’t add up. The time he seemed to be missing, the sense that something had happened that he just couldn’t place. The surge of familiarity when he looked into Dean’s eyes, that green that overwhelmed him, that he felt he knew from somewhere other than the night they first met. The slight pain resonating outwards from the gash on the back of his head wasn’t making it any easier to concentrate. He went to the bathroom, pulling out the first aid kit from beneath the sink. He wasn’t bleeding, but he at least needed to clean the blood caked into his hair, disinfect the wound.

As he mindlessly cared for the cut, he drifted, floating on the edge of consciousness and drunkenness, despite knowing he needed to stay awake after sustaining a concussion. Gabe would surely call Charlie in again to cover his shift tonight, knowing there was no way he would be able to work. 

Wait.

_ Charlie. _

Charlie had called him. And told him...something? Something important. Something that made him go to pack up his gear. Something that made him turn his back on the church and open himself up to the opportunity to be captured.

Cas nearly ran back into the living room, where he had unceremoniously dropped his bag almost immediately. He dug around in the pockets, fumbling with his excitement. Some part of him knew there would be answers for him if he could just get to his phone.

His fingers closed around his phone, and Cas nearly jumped in excitement. He scrolled through to his last email from Charlie, clicking on the picture she had sent. And then it hit him. Sam Winchester. Keith. One and the same.

Cas had to warn Gabe. It was Saturday. Keith -  _ Sam _ , Cas corrected - came in more often than not lately, but always a surprise; no classes on Saturdays, after all. Until they figured out what Dean wanted with this  _ Sam _ and why the hell he was hanging around their bar all the time, they had to be careful. Especially after Cas made so many mistakes. They couldn’t allow him to get the drop on them. He wouldn’t allow his mistakes to put his brother and their lives in jeopardy.

He bolted down the stairs to the bar, stumbling in his adrenaline. Cas narrowly avoided running over Alfie doing prep in the kitchen, dodging a tray being put into the oven at the last second. He pushed through the door to the front of the building.

He was too late.

He must have showed up early, and Gabe,  _ of course, _ let him in.  _ Goddammit _ .

Cas schooled his face, couldn't alarm this stranger to anything being amiss. He had to get Gabe alone. Had to show him the file Charlie had sent him. They had to  _ leave. _

Castiel slowed his pace as he approached the bar, sliding smoothly behind his brother, slinging an arm over his shoulder and approaching Sam with a smile.  _ Keith _ . What kind of alias is  _ Keith? _

“You’re here early. I should probably just go ahead and take the reins, huh? Won’t get any work out of him today, will I?” Cas masked his distaste for the imposter in front of him with the dry delivery of his joke. He felt Gabe tense under him.  _ Take the reins  _ meant  _ time to fucking go. _

Gabe half turned, smacking Castiel in the middle of his chest with the back of his hand. “Cassie, don’t embarrass me. I’ll give you something to do if you’re tryna work so hard,” he turned to Keith, looking almost wistful, surely thinking only about how happy he could have been if they didn’t have to leave. Surely that look would change soon. 

“Sorry, Keith, gotta deal with the little bro real quick. Don’t go anywhere. Handsome.” Gabe laid it on thick, throwing him a wink as he turned to push Cas back to the kitchen. They passed through, all the way to the stairwell to their apartment, ensuring privacy. Gabe turned on Castiel the second the door closed behind him.

“Cassie, you better have fucking meant it. We are both happy here. We have a life. I am behind you, hundred percent. But you better. Fucking. Mean it.” 

Castiel was pierced by his brother’s stare, seeming to tower over him, despite being several inches shorter. He had the presence of a giant and Cas was terrified.

Stunned to silence, he let the picture speak for him. He slowly pulled the picture up, turning to show Gabe. He watched his brother's expression shift to confusion.

"So? Keith told me he had gone to college a few years back. I don't understand what the big deal is."

"The name, Gabriel."

Castiel could pinpoint the exact moment Gabe caught on to the situation. Heard his breath catch in the back of his throat, saw his eyes widen in shock and understanding.

"No."

"Yes. This is who the demon is looking for. The kid that spends more time in this bar talking to you than he probably spends in class. We need to  _ leave. _ " Cas felt an itch crawling under his skin, his heart pounding in his throat. His body was in full on defense mode, fingers reaching for a weapon he didn't have, eyes flicking from one side of the hallway to the other, searching for movement and looking for an exit route. Why wasn't Gabe moving already?

"Cassie, I don't know what this is about, but we don't have to drop everything. Even if that is who he's looking for, it doesn't mean he knows where we are. Or where we live here. Let's talk to him. Please, Cas...if he's in danger too, I…I have to help him." The look Gabe pointed at Cas rocked him to his core. He really cared about Keith. Even while knowing he's not Keith.

Gabe reached out to settle a hand on Cas's shoulder and Cas felt his heart calm and his breathing even out. He owed him this at least.

"Okay. But we need to talk to him now. And then we need to go make a  _ plan. _ " 

Gabe's smile lit up. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

After Cas calmed down, he and his brother returned to the dining room to talk to Sam. They had decided to try and find out just how much Sam was going to dodge and how much he would give up. Cas had already texted Charlie, who was on her way to run the bar so Gabe and Cas could truly set up a plan and had strict instructions to not acknowledge knowing anything about the Sam/Keith situation.

Gabe rounded the corner behind the bar, a surely inappropriate but somehow still entertaining line on the tip of his tongue, only to find that Sam was no longer there. Tucked under the edge of his empty glass was a napkin neatly folded in half. Gabe moved the glass and unfolded the napkin, Cas hovering over his shoulder to see what was written on it, hoping to see an explanation for the man’s sudden disappearance. When he saw the nervously scrawled numbers, the shaky letters spelling out  _ Call Me _ underneath, he choked back a laugh. When he saw the tips of Gabe’s ears turn bright pink, he gave his brother endless shit for it, the fake identity of his brother’s would-be suitor pushed to the back of his mind. Now that his initial panic had subsided, he could see his brother was right, jumping the gun with Sam could cause unnecessary hardship, and best case scenario, he might have valuable information on Dean’s motives and whereabouts. They had to be smarter about this, and Cas might have a chance of capturing the demon.

Thoughts of Dean distracted Cas long enough for Gabe to get in a solid punch to the chest, finally ending the teasing about Gabe’s crush. Just in time for Charlie to walk in the door, her fiery red hair blowing in the wind as the door flew open. 

“Alright, you assholes need to tell me what the hell is going on. Full moratorium on my services as both a bartender  _ and  _ hacker extraordinaire! Spill.” She stormed up to the bar, dropping her bag onto the bar top and immediately pulling out her laptop. 

Cas and Gabe looked at each other, silently begging the other to deal with the ball of energy and rage in front of them. Cas broke first, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a shot. This was the longest day of his life, and he could tell it wasn’t going to be over any time soon.

“Come upstairs,” He threw back the shot and turned to head upstairs. He froze as he reached for the kitchen door, calling to his brother over his shoulder, “Text him. Get him back here and figure out what the actual  _ fuck _ is going on.” He didn’t wait for a response, and he didn’t wait for confirmation that Charlie was following him. He absolutely needed her to hack some more shit for them, and he didn’t have the patience or energy left to convince her at this point.

He climbed the stairs to the apartment, thinking through how much of the truth he could tell her. She would be more beneficial actually having an idea of what was going on, and over the last two years of them being in Lebanon, he had grown quite fond of Charlie. If there was anyone he  _ would  _ ever be able to trust, it was her. He left the door ajar, smoothly picked up his duffel and relocated it to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, and came face to face with Charlie as he turned around to head back to the living room.

“What’s up, buttercup? You look like Satan’s damn chew toy.” 

He could feel the stare she pinned him with, eyes sweeping from head to toe. Castiel could only imagine how he looked. Concussed, ass kicked by a demon, no sleep in...50 -something hours now, a bit drunk.

“Sit,” She commanded, her eyes widening as she dropped to the couch, laptop open on the table in front of her.

He made his way to the chair across from her, got situated, and began his story.

“Gabriel and I are in Witness Protection...of sorts.” He paused, allowing her time to process. 

He saw her take in a breath, open her mouth to speak, and he raised a hand to quiet her. Cas took a moment to collect his thoughts and told his story for the first time.

“Three years ago, I witnessed my parents’ murder. It was my birthday; I had stopped in for dinner, Mom always baked me a cake, and I went to use the bathroom before I left. I heard a crash in the kitchen, hid in the closet, and saw my parents die. Gabe and I knew it was someone from their work, knew they would want us dead next, so we ran. We had the resources to essentially delete our old selves, and that program you wrote for us ensured that. I’ve been tracking the man that killed them, and I think we’ve found him. He’s currently posing as an FBI agent in town, looking for Samuel Winchester, who disappeared years ago, resurfaced as Keith, currently lives here, and is trying to date my older brother.” He looked up from the hole he had been staring into the floor between his feet, eyes locking with Charlie’s. She looked terrified.

And...excited?

_ Shit _ .

She was vibrating with tension, excitement pouring off of her in waves. When he didn’t immediately begin talking again, question after question exploded out of her.

“ _ No way! _ Okay, so what are you going to do about Keith? Sam? What are you calling him? Are you in danger? I can have a new identity for you in, like, 5 hours? Probably less. What work did your parents do? Spies? Government?  _ God _ , that's so sad about your parents! What was the guy's name? Do you know? I bet I can find him! I’ll help, obviously. You and Gabe are family; I’d do anything to help you guys. I’ll track him down and call the cops. Okay, okay, I need pizza and I need beer, and I need like, music or something. No offense, but your place is  _ boring _ and if there is going to be no color, I at least need some music. Is Gabe fine working tonight? Cause I can multitask if y’all need me to, it’s no prob-”

“Charlie.” Cas slapped his hand over her mouth, unable to quiet her any other way. “Shut the fuck up. I can’t answer any of those questions for you. But if you calm down, I’ll tell you what I need.” She was the sister he never wanted. She nodded her head furiously, drawing an ‘x’ over her heart, promising her silence. He slowly removed his hand and sat down on the couch next to her.

“I need you to tell me everything there is to know about Sam Winchester. And I need to know everything that happened once he became Keith.”

*

Gabe:

_ He’s back. Charlie good? _

Cas:

_ Yeah, she knows just enough. Taking a nap. Call if you need me. _

Cas didn’t wait for a response, immediately plugging his phone in to charge, setting it on the bedside table before climbing into bed. He had gotten Charlie settled in the living room, explained he had been awake for far too long before bidding her goodnight. She was under strict orders to periodically check in on Gabe as well as wake him up if she finds anything of importance.

He finally allows himself a moment to breathe. They are mostly safe now. As long as the three of them stay within the building, they’re safe. They went through an exorbitant amount of paint when they first got the bar, warded against everything imaginable. They would be fine if they just stayed put until they could get a plan together. 

Cas fell into a deep sleep, injury, exhaustion, and alcohol catching up with him. He could see swirls of colors, golden brown and shades of green, freckles and pink lips. But then the green turned to black. Cas could smell leather and whiskey. The lips tasted like honey straight from the comb, sweet and addicting. He pushed against the warm figure, a figment of his imagination, but tangible. A familiar pressure settled on his mouth, lips against his again, and he couldn’t breathe.

Castiel woke from his dream suddenly. His heart was pounding and his body felt  _ hot, _ burning from the inside out. He felt light headed, the dream having sent the entirety of his blood to his cock, which was now laying heavy and weeping against his stomach. He could still feel the demon’s lips,  _ Dean’s lips;  _ he would allow himself to think the name (he couldn’t get it out of his mind anyway). A perfect wet heat surrounded the head of his cock, then was gone. He couldn't stop his hips from thrusting up, trying to find that heat again, but meeting nothing. He felt out of control, unable to stop his hand from trailing down his chest. He shut his eyes, couldn’t stand the sight of Dean between his legs, a fantasy superimposed on his reality. But the demon was seared onto his eyelids and Castiel couldn’t escape the sight of him looking up at him through his eyelashes, lips shiny with spit and swollen bright pink around Cas, a beautiful blush creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks. He reached down and took himself in hand, sweat and precum easing the way, unable to take the molten pressure burning in his gut any longer. He could almost feel Dean’s hair under his fingers, could almost hear the sound of him hollowing his cheeks around Castiel’s length.

His breath quickened with his hand, keeping with Dean’s imagined pace. Saw him reach between his legs and touch himself as he continued to take more and more of Castiel. Felt him stutter as he came with Castiel’s cock down his throat. The image of the beautiful demon on his knees in front of him, pushed over the edge like that, had Castiel finishing shortly after.

He allowed himself to enjoy the afterglow, refusing to dwell on his confusion, but grateful he’d stepped away from the self-flagellation of the day before. He could still taste his lips, still smell the leather, still see his eyes. Those  _ eyes. _ He searched for the color everywhere. The green on his socks, the plants that Gabe insisted on keeping around the apartment, the avocado in his kitchen—nothing matched. 

He walked into the living room, surprised to find it empty; Charlie had left a note saying she was running out for supplies. Cas checked the time. Five in the afternoon. More than he normally got. Considering no one woke him up, it seemed like surely everything was fine, right? 

Dinner rush would be starting fairly soon, and Cas knew he should help out. After a quick shower, he got dressed and headed down to check on his brother. He found Gabe in the kitchen, appearing decidedly calm despite the chaos of the last couple of days. Talking with Keith must have gone well. Cas wondered if he was still here.

When Gabe noticed Castiel heading towards him, he closed the distance, wrapping a hand around his brother's arm to lead him into the walk-in freezer.

"Keith isn't involved. No way. I managed to steer the conversation towards family stuff, didn't even hesitate to tell me about a lot of that. Said he's got a brother he hasn't seen in a while, mother died in a fire, alcoholic father that lost it after the fact. Totally upfront. Probably changed his name to distance himself from it all. Start fresh kinda thing. Freak coincidence, him landing out here. Told ya, Cassie!"

Relief washed over him and his frayed nerves from living his life ready to run were soothed. They had time to figure all this out. No immediate danger. Thank god.

"I'm happy for you, man," Cas said with a small smile. And he really meant it. Gabe deserved happiness. "Have you heard from Charlie? She was doing some research in the living room when I went to bed, but she's not here now." 

Gabe shook his head, "No, she came through here a couple hours ago, but got outta here before I had a chance to talk to her. What did you tell her?" Cas knew Gabe trusted his judgement on filling in some of the gaps with Charlie.

"Self-imposed witness protection. I think she's under the impression that our parents were secret agents." He chuckled at the thought.

"Well she's not necessarily wrong," Gabe said with a dry laugh. 

"I'll give her a call, figure out what's going on. You good down here?"

Gabe waved him off, "Obviously. Bartender extraordinaire over here, little bro." Gabe clapped a hand on his shoulder as he moved around him to exit the freezer and return to work. 

Cas pulled out his phone as he headed back upstairs to do some more research on Sam. He dialed Charlie's number, settling onto the couch with his laptop as it rang.

"Cas! You're awake! Okay, so I haven't found much on Sam, everything seems fairly normal. Well, as normal as disappearing and reappearing as a completely different person goes. But then I had an idea to look into the brother. And dude, he's even more of a ghost than Sam. I'm almost back to your place, and I'll show you what I found." 

Before Castiel even had a chance to respond, Charlie ended the call. He huffed out a laugh and patiently waited for the redheaded whirlwind to get back to his place. She threw open the door five minutes later.

“Alright, so I hit a wall. With Sam. And with Keith. But then I had the genius idea to look into the brother. And he was a bit...louder, with his escapades following the death of his mother. About the time Sam dropped off into nonexistence, right around his early 20s, Dean got in some trouble with the law.”

The glass of water in Castiel’s hand slipped, fell to the ground, and broke with a crash.

_ Dean _ .  _ No? _

“Show me his picture.” 

Charlie looked at him with alarm, the harsh tone of voice, the urgency catching her off guard. She froze.

“ _ Now, Charlie,”  _ He growled between clenched teeth. 

She sprung into action, pulling out her laptop, clicking through a couple of file folders, until she found the picture she was looking for. It was a mugshot from Little Rock, Arkansas. The man in the picture couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties. Dark, golden hair. Perfect pink lips. Freckles and tan skin.

Green eyes.

Dean Winchester murdered his parents.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas pulled out his phone.

“Gabe, close the bar. Get up here now.” He hung up without waiting for a response.

He turned back to Charlie, “Everything you’ve got on him. Show me.” He cleared a spot at the kitchen table and booted up his computer. “Send me the file. We’ll get through it faster with two sets of eyes.”

Charlie nodded as her fingers flew across the keyboard. “I’ve got a pretty accurate timeline on him for a bit, but then he disappears. He’s got the creepiest rap sheet of all time too, murders, kidnappings, grave desecration, breaking and entering, trespassing, but always to like, abandoned buildings, churches. Super weird. The mugshot you saw was from a whole slew of charges when authorities finally got him in Little Rock. Wasn’t in jail for long though. He never is. Always manages to break out, slip through the fingers of law enforcement. About the time he hit 27, he disappeared completely. I haven’t been able to find anything on him since then. You should have everything now.”

He saw the alert pop up on his home screen, quickly opening the file and beginning to sort through the multiple arrest records from across the country. He pulled up the first one, looked into the circumstances surrounding the arrest and then on to the next.

“Charlie, map out where all he has been. Track Sam as well. Did you find anything on Keith? When did he adopt that identity?”

“A couple years ago. Basically as soon as he showed up in town here.” Charlie spoke without breaking her gaze at her computer screen. 

“What the fuck is going on, Cassie?” Gabe slammed the door behind him. His expression demanded answers.

“It’s Sam’s brother, Gabe. The thing that killed mom and dad is your new boyfriend’s fucking  _ brother. _ ”

*

Cas could tell Charlie was getting suspicious. He and Gabe’s hushed conversations, having her look into the circumstances surrounding Dean’s multiple arrests, trying to coach her through looking for signs of the supernatural without  _ telling _ her about the supernatural. They either needed to fully clue her in and hope she didn’t think they were insane, or they needed to cut her out completely at this point. And since Castiel told her part of what was going on, he knew that cutting her out now would never work out. Her tenacity was part of what Cas loved about her, but it was definitely proving to be a hindrance now.

Before Gabe and Cas had an opportunity to discuss how they wanted to move forward, Charlie made the decision for them.

“Oh  _ shit _ ,” she said in surprise. 

She looked up with fear in her eyes, slammed her laptop shut and hopped up from the couch, as if trying to distance herself as much as possible from whatever it was she had found.

Cas looked over at Gabe, a worried crease to his brow, before slowly standing to walk in front of Charlie, pacing back and forth through the Novaks’ living room. She was muttering something under her breath,  _ no way, can’t be real, faked the video,  _ as Cas reached out, gripping her shoulders and forcing her to stop moving.

“Charlie. Stop,” Cas ducked his head to make eye contact with her, “What did you find?”

She looked at him, speechless still, eyes darting over Castiel’s shoulder where Gabe had come to stand behind him. He could see her psyching herself up to answer, obviously still shaken from whatever it was she saw.

“Okay. Okay. Just...you gotta come look.” She turned out of Castiel’s hold and opened her laptop, displaying a website, Ghostfacers.com. Cas looked at Gabe. They wouldn’t have to explain anything to her. She figured it out herself. Dammit.

There was a video pulled up, the posting date and camera quality showing it to be a handful of years old. Shot mostly in night vision, the video seemed to depict a group of kids trying to prove the existence of ghosts by spending the night in a haunted house. Gabe knocked Cas’s shoulder when the name of the building was mentioned. 

The Morton House.

Cas reached forward and paused the video, the Men of Letters file flashing before his eyes. He turned to Gabe, matching his crazed look. The Morton House was legendary in the Hunting community. After too many legacies had tried to lay the spirits trapped in that house to rest, losing their own lives in the process, the organization had switched gears, opting to just try and keep civilians out of the building as a whole. The dwindling amount of remaining legacies made this a more and more difficult feat as the years went on, and apparently, some people made it through the magical red tape keeping people out. The House wasn’t part of Castiel and Gabe’s chapter’s purview, nowhere near the Illinois jurisdiction, so their knowledge was purely academic, a teaching moment on Death Echoes and more...potent spirits. 

They could tell from the video these “Ghostfacers” were no Men of Letters, purely amatuer ghost hunters. Cas was shaken, knowing this video was going to end with at least one death. Gabe looked over at Charlie, thinking the same thing.

“Did you watch the whole thing?” 

Charlie looked up at him, pale and scared still. “No,” she breathed out, deafening amidst the tension in the room. “I stopped when, uh, when I saw Keith. Sam. Have we decided what we are calling him now?”

“Wait, what? Show me.” Gabe jumped forward, hopping over the back of the couch where he was leaning to settle next to Charlie. She skipped forward in the video while Cas began pacing, trying to think all of this through. Sam at the Morton House? Something was up with his brother, that much was sure. Most of those arrests Castiel was able to link to a hunt in the area, a shapeshifter, ghost, demon possessions. So Dean was, past tense, obviously a hunter.

But Sam was a different story. Other than the circumstances surrounding his mother’s death and going missing for a couple decades, his life was fairly normal. He went to Stanford, for fuck’s sake.

Charlie found the timestamp that featured Sam, unmistakably so. She played the video from there, and shortly after realized why she closed the video soon after. The haunting became a lot more  _ real _ when he showed up, the doors trapping everyone inside at sundown, as it did every four years. Cas began planning in his mind on how to have the “monsters in your closet are real” conversation with Charlie, when he saw him.

_ Dean. _

He inhaled sharply, felt the blood drain from his face, and reached out for the couch to stabilize himself, suddenly weak in the knees. Gabe whipped around to look at him, features going from curious to worried when he took in the state Cas found himself in, stunned by how perfect the demon was, features seeming younger almost, softer. Even in the middle of swearing at the young filmmakers, still somehow... _ brighter _ than any time Cas had seen him before. Gabe reached forward over the back of the couch, helping him stay upright.

“What is it, Cassie?” Gabe had never seen him. He only knew Cas’s description. And  _ god _ did Cas’s description not do him justice.

“That’s Dean. Sam’s brother.” Cas gritted the words out between his teeth, still overwhelmed seeing him on Charlie’s computer screen, so soon after that damn  _ dream _ that he couldn’t get to stop replaying in the back of his mind. He heard his brother swear under his breath and close the laptop. He turned to Charlie.

“Alright, Charlie. Time to talk,” he turned to his brother, “I’m telling her, Cas. Everything. She deserves to know, after two years of our vague bullshit. Now that she’s seen this.” Cas nodded, the only amount of movement he could manage. Gabe turned back to Charlie, took her hands in his. “You wanna know the truth? There is no going back once I’ve told you all of this. You can never unhear this information. You can call bullshit, choose ignorance, but Cas and I were raised into this life. And you have to know we would never lie to you. Well, only for your protection.”

“Which is why we have tried to keep you out of this for so long. We wanted to protect you from all of it. Gabe’s right, though. It’s doing you more harm than good to keep you in the dark any longer.” Cas interjected.

“Exactly. So, wanna know the truth? About all the things that go bump in the night?” Gabriel looked intently at Charlie, searching her face for something. Fear, confusion, incredulity. 

Cas halfway thought she would just pack up and go. She just watched a video of the most haunted building in possibly the world, has seen Cas after some pretty rough hunts, and now here they were, talking about some hidden-from-the-public secret about monsters. Cas wouldn’t blame her one bit if she left, never spoke to them again after this newest batch of crazy they had unloaded on her.

To his immense surprise though, all he saw in her face was a stone cold determination, a fire lit behind her eyes.

“Tell me.”

*

A few hours and several beers later, everything had been laid out. Monsters, Men of Letters, and the Hunters that worked with them. The actual story of the night their parents died, and the abridged version of the recent encounter Castiel had with Dean. He had to admit she had taken it much better than most of the folks he had to tell about the supernatural world, the victims, the people that had seen too much on accident. Normally there was a solid minute of abject horror, sometimes they got sick, they cried, they refused to listen. If Cas had a nickel for everytime someone told him he was crazy, he and Gabe could retire.

Charlie was something else.

She took  _ notes. _

“Look, if I’m going to be any help, I’ll need a cheat sheet for a bit. This is...a  _ lot _ .”

Cas scoffed, “Of course it is. Charlie, how are you not, I don’t know, freaking out at least?” He was amazed at how well she was taking all of it.

“Cas, this is  _ so cool! _ I mean, I’m sure you don’t see that, raised into it, which, I have some questions about that for sure, but for me, a sci-fi nerd and avid LARPer, this shit is  _ amazing _ . I’ve been ready for my turn at an adventure,” stars in her eyes, she looked between the two brothers with gratitude. “You guys are giving me that chance. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Cas smiled. He really did love the little weirdo, the sister he never knew he wanted.

He shoved off the corner of the wall he was leaning on and sat in the chair across from Gabe and Charlie. “What questions do you have?”

She beamed, Cas’s question having the unspoken undertone of approval of her joining the life they lead.

“Okay, okay, okay. So first, Men of Letters? Seems a little sexist to me, but if you said your mom was a member, I guess I can let it slide for now. And you guys were really part of a secret society?  _ Really? _ You said it was an online network, right? So do you think it would be accessible from the outside? Like, you two point me in the right direction, and I could probably get in. Would that be helpful? In figuring out what happened to your parents?”

Cas shot her a look, a warning. “We know what happened to my parents. I saw that demon there. He killed them. I know it.”

She looked back, nervous and pitying, as if she felt sorry for Castiel for not understanding, for missing the entire point of...something. “Yeah. Of course. I just mean… I dunno, it seems like this Dean guy, and Keith?” She looked at Gabe in question, “Sam. Sam was obviously hunting in this video  _ with _ Dean. That doesn’t seem like something a murdering demon would do. He helped those kids!”

“Charlie,” Cas warned her. His emotions towards the demon were muddled enough as is, between his confusing attraction to Dean and his insistence that he  _ didn't _ kill Castiel’s parents, he didn’t know what to think anymore. He was there that night. He was covered in blood. Cas hadn’t seen anyone else there. Only him.

_ He’d only ever have eyes for him. _

Charlie raised her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, Cas. Sounds a little fishy to me. But that’s just me.” She turned to Gabe, who was looking between the two of them, barely able to hide his amusement. 

“Look, Gabe obviously agrees with me,” she says, exasperated. 

At that, Gabe looked taken aback. “Don’t get me involved.” He said, arms crossed, mischievous smile on his face silently begging Charlie to drag him into it, “Family’s got good genes, huh?”

Cas choked on his sip of beer. “What?”

“Even I’ve got to admit, that is one good-looking guy, demon or not,” Charlie shrugged. Cas ducked his head, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck. A combination of shame and embarrassment.

“I don’t know much about all this, but as far as demons go, it seems like this is,  _ at worst,  _ a bad spirit in a tasty looking meat suit. Save your damsel that doesn’t even know he’s in distress.” She side-eyed Gabriel, searching for his agreement. Cas saw him through his lashes, grinning and nodding vigorously.

“Charlie,” he gritted through his teeth, “what other questions do you have?”

She scanned through the notes she had taken. “Umm, are we going to go talk to Sam? I wanna come with, if you guys do. I’m serious. All in.” Cas could tell she meant it. She had just been told that every horror story she’d ever heard, every nightmare she’d ever had, all of it was true. And she was going to help them.

He defaulted to Gabriel on that. “It’s your boyfriend,” he teased. His brother rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call him.”

Cas nodded his approval before turning back to Charlie, “Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll call you before we go over to see him.” She didn’t believe him. “I promise.”

Gabriel pulled his phone out of his pocket and left the room as Charlie began to gather her things, sighing in agreement. “This has been a lot.”

He kissed her cheek as she left, waving goodbye to Gabe, talking to Sam in the kitchen in hushed words. He looked worried. Cas thought he could understand.

Once Charlie was gone and Gabriel had ended the call, they sat across from each other at the dining room table, devising a plan for the second time in less than 48 hours.


	7. Chapter 7

Charlie arrived a little after 9 that night, bags of snacks and drinks weighing down her arms. Cas helped her carry them all to the kitchen, and the two of them began setting up for Sam’s arrival, filling bowls with chips and salsa, candy—the works. They had an hour until Game Night officially started.

Gabe walked into the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower.

“Ready to impress your boy toy?” Charlie smirked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Charlie.” Gabe looked scared. Cas felt sorry for him. He wanted happiness for his brother. But The Life always got in the way of that.

Sam arrived right on time. He hugged Charlie, shook Cas’s hand, and gave Gabriel a sad little wave, blushing. They all exchanged pleasant small talk, trading (mostly fake) stories of what all they had gotten up to during the day.

“That sucks you guys had to close the restaurant down. It’s nothing serious, right?” The look of concern on his face was genuine, only heightening Cas’s confusion about the man. What game was he playing? Was he really just an innocent bystander in all of this? Was it all one big coincidence that the younger brother of their parents' murderer was living in the same town as them? Pursuing his older brother while Cas was doing the same?

Gabe waved off the boy’s concern. “Just some maintenance work, nothing to worry about. Besides, how else am I supposed to get a night off for our first date?” He winked as Sam choked on his sip of beer. Cas tried to spare the poor kid’s dignity. Whatever was left, at least.

“So, Keith, Gabe tells me you have a brother?” Cas feigned the light ignorance needed to sell the line of questioning as nothing more than casual interest, and not a specifically crafted line of questioning that Gabe and Castiel had concocted hours earlier.

Sam froze. Just for a second.

“Yeah, he’s a few years older than me. Haven’t talked to him in a while though. Definitely not the same relationship you and Gabe have. Dean wouldn’t trust me to pick the music when we would drive, let alone run a business with me.” He laughed off the story, turning trauma into an anecdote. Cas tried to not let the sound of Dean’s name get to him, but he felt his heart rate pick up nonetheless.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cas grit through his clenched jaw.

Sam waved it off, “Nah, I’ve made my peace with it. He’s my brother, and I love him. But he’s made some choices I don’t...agree with. The distance is for the best, believe me,” he looked around the room, “Another round?” he asked as he stood from his spot on the floor. “Kitchen’s just through there, yeah?” 

Charlie popped up, “Yes! I’ll help. There are some snacks in there, too, calling my name!” She linked her arm with his and led him to the kitchen, throwing Cas a look that very clearly said  _ I know you two need a second to talk. _

Once they were out of earshot, Cas leaned across the table to Gabe.

“I can’t believe that he’s involved, Cassie. There’s no way.” Gabe pleaded.

“Did you see that look on his face when I asked him? You can’t tell me there aren’t some red flags there,” Cas reasoned.

“I did see that. I  _ also _ saw the look on  _ your _ face when he said his name. You gonna tell me about that? Or do Charlie and I have to keep making thinly veiled comments about it?”

Cas opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie and Sam were returning with full hands. They continued on with some mindless small talk while setting up the game, Cas staying mostly quiet while he mulled over the situation. Sam really doesn’t seem like he would have had anything to do with what happened to his parents, and the distaste for his brother’s choices was genuine. But what happened to cause the falling out? And even if he is telling the truth about Dean, the fact that he was in that amatuer hour ghost hunting video and the fake name don’t sit right.

After a round of Sorry! (Cas’s favorite), Gabe rose from the table and threw a pointed look in Cas’s direction.

“Cassie, come help me with the next round.” Cas followed his older brother into the kitchen, and was immediately cornered.

“Look, we both agree that Sam was not involved with what happened to Mom and Dad. You are right about some red flags though. We need to just lay it all out on the table. Whadda ya say?” Gabe looked hopeful, desperate. Cas couldn’t disagree with him. Looking into Sam’s background more wasn’t really going to help them. They needed to confront him and get real answers.

“Alright,” Cas sighed, “but let me lead on this.” A smile split Gabe’s face, overjoyed he might just be able to have his cake and eat it too after all.

They returned to the living room, where Charlie and Sam had finished setting up the next game. Cas turned to Charlie and asked if she could go grab her laptop from her car real quick. They wanted her safe if the initial confrontation got a little...messy. She looked confused, asking what was going on with the squint of her eyes. She didn’t press the matter, though, quickly jumping up to her feet and throwing a cheery  _ Be right back!  _ as she closed the door behind her. 

Sam smiled up at Gabe as he handed him a beer, thanking him. Cas sat across from him, Gabe to his right.

“You know, Keith doesn’t really suit you.”

Concern flashed across Sam’s face at Cas’s comment, but he quickly recovered with a laugh. “I get that a lot actually.”

Gabe leaned forward a bit, catching Sam’s gaze, “You look more like a... _ Sam _ to me. Don’tcha think Cassie?”

Sam’s face changed instantly, like he was in danger, and he moved so fast out of his chair that it fell over. He tried to make for the door, but Cas beat him to it. As a little extra incentive not to move, Cas pulled a small pistol from the waistband of his jeans, cocking it to prove his point. 

“Not so fast, Sam. We just want to talk. Sit down, answer our questions  _ truthfully,  _ and you’ll leave here unscathed,” Cas promised.

Sam held his hands up in surrender, slowly and deliberately moving to set the chair right before returning to his seat. Cas could see the hurt flicker across Sam’s face as he chanced a glance at Gabe. Cas didn’t have to see to know Gabe’s face had a similar expression.

Sam sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your brother.”

*

Charlie returned shortly after the room had settled, but the tension was still thick in the air. Sam looked confused at first that she was a part of all of this, her sweet, bubbly demeanor seeming out of place next to Cas’s stone cold stare, gun still gripped tightly in his hand. Sam made no comment as she took the empty seat between Cas and Sam, setting her laptop on the table in front of her.

Cas looked at Sam expectantly.

“I was telling the truth earlier. I haven’t seen or heard from him in 3 years now. He, uh, went off the deep end a bit,” Sam said sheepishly, unable to make eye contact.

Gabe tried and failed to catch his eye, “Three years, huh? What happened?”

Sam didn’t say anything.

“Three years ago, I saw your brother kill our parents. Is that related to your falling out in any way?” 

Cas uncocked his gun and placed it back in his waistband. Sam was cooperating; no need for excessive force.

Sam’s head jerked up from where he had been staring a hole into the table, locking eyes with Castiel, shock prominently displayed on his face before schooling his expression. “I had no idea,” he turned to look at Gabriel, “I’m so sorry. I...I didn’t realize.”

Cas could feel the sincerity of his words. There was no doubt in his mind now that Sam was in no way caught up in all this. His appearance in their life was obviously just some twisted cosmic joke, the biggest of coincidences.

“Charlie, will you pull up that video for Sam, please?” Cas asked. 

She nodded her head in acknowledgement and started typing. When she had found the video, she skipped to the timestamp that corresponded with Sam and Dean’s appearance. She turned the screen to face Sam and hit play.

Castiel could see the moment Sam recognized the video. He reached forward and shut the laptop immediately. 

“How did you find that?” he asked, voice low and rough with emotion.

“Sam, please. You know I can find basically anything once it has been posted online,” Charlie said, so pleased with herself that she sat up straighter in her chair, obviously thrilled to finally be a part of this.

Sam looked like he was about to try to back pedal, explain away the video as a fake, thoroughly rehearsed cover story on the tip of his tongue. Cas could see the moment he figured out that he wasn’t the only Hunter in the room.

“Look, I left that life the moment Dean fucked up like he did. I don’t know anything about that night except he called me, told me he fucked up, and I left. Packed up my shit and moved. I don’t know where to find him. I can’t help you.” Sam was begging for his life at this point. He was pleading for Castiel to understand that he had nothing to offer his revenge quest, and he was begging Gabriel to understand his feelings were genuine. This wasn’t some plot to finish off the bloodline. “Please, you guys have got to believe me.”   


Silence fell heavy over the room. Charlie looked like she felt she was intruding, shrinking in on herself now that her part had been played. Gabe finally broke the silence.

“Wait. You don’t know where he is?” He was soft spoken, almost as if he were talking to a wounded animal.

Sam finally broke. “No, Gabe! I wouldn’t hurt you like this, don’t you see that? I’ve been telling you the truth this whole time. The only lie has been my name. I want nothing to do with my brother.” There was a fiery conviction burning in his eyes, “He’s not even my brother anymore...not really.”

“Of course he’s not your brother anymore. He’s possessed. Have you ever dealt with a demon? Or were you guys exclusively on salt and burns?” Cas couldn’t help the bitter shock to his words. He was hoping the fact that the two of them were able to exercise the fucking  _ Morton House _ would have meant something beneficial.

Sam huffed a laugh under his breath and shook his head. “Never dealt with a demon. I fucking wish.” He stood, grabbing his beer and taking a deep pull of the liquid courage as he began to pace. “Dean isn’t possessed.”

“What makes you so sure?” Cas was incredulous. He had seen Dean’s eyes flash black, felt the enormous amount of power and strength when they had fought, watched his wounds from their fight heal before his eyes. He was a demon.

He didn’t look like a demon though. Or smell like the pits of Hell. His curiosity was piqued. He waited patiently while Sam collected his thoughts.

"He died while bearing the Mark of Cain. We were hunting the demon that killed our mother, Azazel." Sam's voice was barely more than a whisper, the topic of conversation still an open wound, despite the years that had passed since Mary Winchester's death.

"Mark of Cain? Like...Cain and Abel?" Charlie spoke up, pulling her computer back in front of her, fingers flying across the keyboard. 

Sam nodded his head, eyes still cast down towards the floor.

"We caught a lead on where he would be, but our father died trying to kill him. We knew the standard weapons wouldn't work, so we looked into the lore and learned about the First Blade. The problem with that was you had to have the Mark to wield it. Otherwise it was nothing more than a bone. Crowley figured out how to get the Mark.

“Who’s Crowley?” Gabe interjected.

Sam responded matter-of-factly, “The King of Hell.”

"Wait. You know the  _ King of Hell? _ " Gabe asked incredulously. 

"Yeah, it's a long story. He's helped us a bit over the years. Apparently there was a powerful demon threatening his reign of terror, so you know, the enemy of your enemy is your friend," Sam chuckled under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. A nervous tic. "Anyway, he took Dean to some bee farm or something and when I saw him next he had some burn on his arm. It all kind of went downhill from there."

"Was it this?" Charlie turned her screen to face them, a drawing of a symbol pulled up on a biblical website. 

Sam nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, that's it. He was fine at first. We kept hunting when cases came our way, vamp nests, salt and burns, that sort of stuff. And then Crowley found the blade. The first time Dean held it, I knew I lost him."

Gabe reached out tentatively, resting his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam finally raised his eyes, locking them with Gabe’s.

“I’m  _ so sorry _ , Sam. So sorry you’ve gone through all of that. It sounds like you’ve been dealt a shit hand. And I’m sorry we’ve dragged you back into this life,” Gabe was pouring out all the affection he felt for this man, opening up his heart to him, “It’s hard to actually get out alive, but it seems like you had managed to do just that.” Sam smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Cassie, you’ve been pretty quiet over there.”

Cas was deep in his thoughts, trying to make sense of all the new information that had just been thrown at him. Dean was neither a human, nor demon, somewhere hovering between humanity and damnation. And somehow it all made sense. It’s why he smelled so sweet, why Cas still felt warmth and life from him. Dean was still Dean at the root of it all, whoever that even is. It stood to reason that he was acting exactly as Dean would have always acted, albeit a little less…inhibited. Somehow this made Cas feel less dirty for his attraction, maybe more justified.

So, where would they go from here? Would Sam help them? He at least needed to be aware his brother was looking for him. He truly could be in danger, and, with the havoc Cas has already inflicted on the poor guy, they had to protect him.

Cas collected his thoughts, and finally spoke.

“Sam, I believe you. You obviously didn’t have anything to do with this. I apologize for pointing my gun at you,” he stood from the table, raising his voice as he moved into the kitchen, “You’re going to have to stay here for a while. Dean knows you’re staying in this town. Since he is still a demon, it’s safe to assume his intentions are malicious.” 

He rummaged around in the kitchen, grabbing a snack and a glass of water. The alcohol, coupled with the concussion and sleep deprivation, were definitely affecting him. He returned to the table to see Sam’s worried look, the anxiety he felt over the situation showing through.

“That’s alright, Samshine,” Gabe winked, “you can bunk with me.”

“Gross, you guys,” Charlie whined, eyes never leaving her computer screen, scanning through whatever website she had pulled up.

Cas smiled as he returned to the table. Maybe he hadn’t completely jeopardized his brother’s shot at happiness after all.

“I’m going to track down your brother. I would genuinely like your help, but I understand if you don’t want to put yourself in that situation. You’re obviously skilled. I would like to talk to you more at some point about your past hunts. Very interested in the Morton House. It was always sort of a legend in our family.” Cas smiled at him. 

He had always liked Keith. He’s starting to like Sam even more. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about hunting other than his brother. Despite what a large part of his life it was, it was also the biggest secret he had. 

Sam started to laugh, truly happy. “You know, it sucks you didn’t get to meet Dean before all of this. I think you two would have really hit it off.” 

All at once, Charlie and Gabe joined in Sam’s laughter; Cas felt his face heat.

Sam looked between them all, catching on that he was not completely in on whatever had the other three reacting as such. Once the hysterics finally calmed down, he shrugged at Cas, “Yeah, I’m in. What can I do to help?”

The group spent the rest of the night buried in research. Sam shared everything he knew about the Mark of Cain and the first blade, filled in a couple areas of his origin story he glossed over, hunched over tomes, copies of documents Cas had managed to salvage from Men of Letters databases. Gabe and Charlie were hunched over her laptop, looking into Knights of Hell and trying to hack the Men of Letters database. Cas looked into tracking spells. Another sleepless night for Castiel, but at least they finally had a plan.

And Castiel could finally get some answers.


	8. Chapter 8

The room was set up in record time due to Gabe and Sam’s help. They had split shortly after it was all ready, not wanting to be there and show their whole goddamn hand if it wasn’t necessary, which Cas assured them it wasn’t. They had found the abandoned barn on the outskirts of town and immediately began covering it in every type of warding imaginable. With Sam and Charlie’s help, and endless days of dedicated lore research between bar shifts, they had found an old summoning spell that, in theory, should still work on whatever type of human-demon hybrid Dean had become. Throughout it all, Gabriel and Sam had talked endlessly about the prospect of him never being able to say goodbye to his brother.

“I haven’t had a brother in three years,” was Sam’s only response.

When the barn was ready, Cas had all his weapons prepared and laid out on the tables surrounding him. All the necessary ingredients for the summoning were in order. All that was left was to actually  _ perform  _ the spell. He combined the ingredients, expertly recited the incantation, and then waited.

And waited.

He saw the flash of lightning through the cracks in the rundown barn’s slats, heard the roll of thunder shortly after. This was it. He grabbed his favorite knife, an ancient knife with an antler handle and runes carved into the serrated blade, and prepared himself for the ensuing fight. Dean would be there any minute. He wished he could say his heart was only pounding with adrenaline from the fight that was sure to come, but he knew better. He’d been dreaming of this day for years, the day he would finally avenge the death of his parents. But he’d been dreaming of  _ this  _ for days now, his chance to see the beautiful demon again, and, if he was lucky, his opportunity to feel those lips again. He ran his fingers through his perpetually unruly hair, took a deep breath to try and center himself and calm his libido. To no avail.

Before he could get himself under control, the barn doors flew open with another crack of lighting, any remaining light bulbs shattering and glass covering the floor. From his position, Castiel could make out the outline of a figure in the doorway. Lightning lit up the face. It was him.

Dean walked in the barn slowly, the bowlegged swagger causing Castiel’s throat to dry up in anticipation. The distance from the door to where Cas had set up wasn’t far, but watching Dean move closer, Cas could swear it took an eternity for him to travel the few yards separating them. He couldn’t help how his eyes roamed every inch of the demon’s body, the tight jeans accentuating the curve to his legs, red button down a lovely contrast to the slight tan of his skin. He only wished he was close enough to see his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart. Thought you didn’t wanna see me again. Almost hurt my feelings.” Cas could hear the smug smile in his tone, the demon still too far away and too cloaked in darkness to see it yet. 

Cas’s whole body tensed, prepared for the fight ahead. The demon seemed unafraid. He could surely see the arsenal Castiel had laid out next to him, yet continued to walk forward, walk closer to his demise. Cas grabbed his gun, devil’s trap bullets already loaded. He emptied the clip in Dean’s direction, somehow managing to miss him entirely.

Unphased, Dean continued to move forward.

“Cas, we’ve talked about this. Gotta buy me dinner first. I know a little burger joint down the road.” He could see the corners of the demon’s mouth turn up into a smile. “They’re not as good as mine, but I don’t pull out the home cooked meals until I know I’m going to get lucky.”

Cas faltered. He was so close. This was his chance. Then, Castiel lunged forward, plunging the knife through Dean’s heart. He jumped back, dodging the fist Dean swung at him, nearly simultaneously. He froze, looked down at his chest, at the knife buried to the hilt, and then back up at Cas. Cas found himself lost in the forest of Dean’s eyes, slack jawed in awe, from both the beauty in front of him and the fear that this hadn’t worked. Dean should have  _ died _ . The knife should have  _ worked _ .

Without a flinch, Dean grabbed the knife and pulled it from his body, dropping it right where he stood. He began to laugh. Cas grit his teeth and reached behind him for another weapon, anything to hold him off for long enough to get the fuck out of what had become a disaster of a plan. 

“Uh uh uh, you’re not getting away from me that easily. Took you long enough to find me this time around, and I don’t have time for you to find me a third time.” Dean reached an arm out, fingers tangling into Castiel’s shirt, holding him with minimal effort.

“Fuck you,” Cas spat at him in a last ditch effort of self-defense. 

He unsuccessfully tried to twist himself out of the demon’s hold, but Dean pulled him effortlessly closer, their faces mere inches apart.

“God, please do,” he threw back with a wink, “just not right now. This is a business call. Maybe a little pleasure after though, if you’re up for it. Now, play nice, and I’ll actually give you some answers this time. A little birdie told me that that cute older brother of yours has some pretty nice arm candy nowadays. They come with you today?” Dean reached behind Castiel as he talked, bringing one of Cas’s own blades up to his throat.

Cas stared into his eyes, watched as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, breath catching in the back of his throat at the sight. He saw Dean’s eyes dart down as Cas instinctively wet his lips in return. He tore his eyes away, feeling any semblance of control draining away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He breathed heavily through his mouth, trying to not inhale every bit of the honeysuckle scent pouring off the demon. 

Why did he not smell like Hell? Like every other demon Castiel had encountered? What kind of human must he have been to smell so Heavenly, despite the damnation branded on his forearm?

“Show me those pretty blue eyes, baby. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.” 

Cas could feel Dean’s breath on his cheek. He felt just as frozen then as he had that night three years ago, seeing Dean that first time, covered in blood, in his  _ parents’ blood. _ He couldn’t make a sound. He could feel every drop of his blood running south, and he couldn’t help but hate himself for it.

He couldn’t help himself either. He opened his eyes and rushed forwards, hands coming up to tangle in the demon’s hair. He crashed their lips together with bruising force. All teeth and tongues and passion, hate and lust battling for dominance. Dean moved closer, crowding Castiel closer to the edge of the table covered in weapons. Without hesitation, Cas swept an arm behind him, clearing a space, allowing himself to be pushed back even further. He heard a growl from deep within Dean’s chest. He couldn’t tell if it was a threat or an encouragement.

And then, all at once, they both remembered why they were actually there. Castiel gripped Dean’s hair, pushing the demon forward. He reached his left hand down, taking advantage of Dean’s surprised, lax grip. Cas grabbed the knife out of Dean’s hand, twisted his arm behind his back. He slammed Dean forward, face first into the table, sharp edge of his blade pressed against his throat, digging into the beginnings of a hickey that Castiel himself had left.

Dean laughed, dry and rough. He tilted up his chin, clenching his teeth as he pushed his throat against the blade. Cas couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the sneer in his tone. “I fucking dare you, Castiel. You don’t have the stones, and we both know it. There’s no need to fight, hon. We can work it out...” He slowly stood up, straight from the waist, pushing his ass back into Castiel the whole time. It pulled a moan from Cas’s mouth, but his grip on the dagger tightened. 

“You murdered my parents.” He couldn’t form any other thought than that; acid rose up in the back of his throat as he thought about what he had just done.

“We’ve been over this. I did  _ not _ kill your parents. I do know who did though. I’d say I’d give you three guesses, but I know for a fact you’ve never heard the name before. Just not fair to you, really. Let go of me, and I might just tell you who you’re looking for.”

Cas’s grip tightened in the demon’s hair reflexively. He wouldn’t let him get away this time.

“Come on, babe,” Dean moved his hips back as Cas shivered, feeling that perfect ass pressed up against him. “You know you don’t want to kill me. At least not yet. Haven’t even gotten to third base.” Cas’s grip weakened, caught off guard by the innuendo. Dean took advantage, breaking Castiel’s grip. He turned around, face to face with Castiel again, “Fifth base is my favorite,” he whispered with a wink. 

Cas could feel his face heat up with a mix of shame and arousal. He pushed back, away from the demon, in an effort to clear his head. If he could breathe in anything other than the whiskey, honey, summertime smell of the demon, then maybe he could form some sort of coherent response.

He took a defensive stance, prepared himself for the fight as he let go of Dean entirely. Neither one made a move. They raised their hands in surrender. Time to talk.

“Good boy. I really wasn’t ready to be done playing anyway.” Dean brushed a hand down the front of his shirt, as if some dirt from the table was the biggest concern he had right now. Then, he leaned back against the table behind him, ready to talk. Cas waited. 

“Where is Sam?” Dean asked.

Cas scoffed. “I have no reason to tell you. You fucked me over last time. I told you everything, and you did not reciprocate. So now it’s your turn. Who killed my parents? Why were you there that night if it wasn’t you? Answer either one. Eventually I’ll make you answer both.”

“I was there that night for the same reason you are here right now.” Dean huffed a sigh. Angry, tense. If this meant what he thought it did, Cas had wasted three whole years. Three years chasing after a demon that didn’t want to be found. After a demon that...maybe didn’t deserve to be chased in the first place?

“The fire. Your dad wasn’t yelling bullshit then. Your mother really was murdered.” Cas couldn’t look at him.

“You get a little bit warmer every day, hot stuff. Talk to Sammy. I know you know where he is.” He stepped closer, threw an arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling him in for a long deep kiss. 

He was intoxicating and Cas couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. He couldn’t breathe when Dean finally broke the kiss, Cas’s lips chasing after his and not wanting it to end. He opened his eyes, expecting Dean to be gone like last time, using a kiss to distract Castiel enough to flee, but to his surprise, he was still there.

Dean looked at Castiel expectantly. "Call him up, loverboy. Tell him to get his ass down here, and make him talk."

"I know you've been looking for him. You just want to get your hands on him. I'm not going to let you play me again." Cas had to be smarter this time. He just needed to trap him somehow.

Dean smirked. “Alright, you got me. How about this: draw me a devil’s trap and I will step in willingly. But only if you bring Sammy here. I’ll even throw in the name of the demon that  _ actually _ killed your parents. Just cause you’re cute.”

Cas was taken aback by just how willing Dean seemed about being trapped, surrounded by three people that wanted him dead. It was almost too good to be true.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean responded, voice thick with desire, “just think of it as foreplay,” he threw in with a wink that caused heat to curl in Cas’s gut. He eyed the demon suspiciously.

“How do I know a demon trap will work?” Cas couldn’t think of any other reason he would be so at ease with the arrangement he had proposed.

“Well, you’ll just have to trust me, won’t you?” The smile Dean flashed at Castiel bordered predatory.

*

It didn’t take long to draw a Devil’s Trap in the corner of the barn. Cas had been doodling Devil’s Traps since he learned his ABC’s thanks to his Men of Letters heritage. But every second feeling Dean’s eyes rake over his body, bent over the ground with a can of spray paint, felt like hours. Sweat coated his body, blushing red hot from the attention. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he bit out under his breath.

“Like what?” Dean asked. He could hear the fake innocence in his tone. Cas whipped his head around to look at him.

“Like I’m something to eat,” Cas responded before putting the final touches on the trap.

Dean hummed, "But aren’t you?"

Cas finally stood, returning the can of paint to his bag thrown on the floor nearby. He looked at Dean expectantly, and sure enough, the demon walked right into the middle of the elaborate sigil on the floor. Dean held out his arms, almost a shrug.

“See? I told you I’d be good,” he said with a wink.

Cas pulled out his phone, quickly dialing Gabe’s number. He tapped his foot impatiently as it rang. Just before it went to voicemail, he finally picked up.

“Is it done?” He didn’t wait for Castiel to say anything first.

“Change of plan. He’s trapped. Won’t tell me anything unless Sam is here first.” Cas braced himself for Gabe’s surely displeased response.

“What do you mean, he’s trapped? I won’t put Sam in danger.” Gabe’s tone was hard, leaving no room for a response that didn’t include confirmation of Dean’s death.

Cas sighed, “Look Gabe, I know it’s not...ideal, but-” Gabe cut him off.

“No, Castiel. I know something is  _ weird _ between the two of you. But this is going too far. You will not put Sam’s life at risk just because you want to fuck some demon.”

Cas felt the world spin beneath his feet. Gabe had hit the nail on the head with too great a level of accuracy. If this had been any other demon, a demon that wasn’t as radiant as Dean, would Cas be giving him this level of leeway? He knew he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of this plan. Yet here he was, putting his brother’s psuedo-boyfriend at risk, all on the word of a demon. He looked at Dean leaning against the wall, barely paying attention, oblivious to the turmoil Cas was internally battling. He pulled his eyes away from the bruise blossoming on his exposed collar bone.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed into his phone. There was nothing but silence coming from the other end of the line. Then Gabe sighed.

“Alright, Cassie. If Sam weren’t on board, I would veto the hell out of this idea. But he’s okay with it, for whatever reason. So we’ll be there soon. Hang tight.” He didn’t wait for a response before ending the call.

Cas had about 10 minutes alone with Dean before they would arrive. He ran a hand through his hair, stress getting the best of him. He turned back to face Dean, stepping closer until his toes met the outer rim of the trap. He felt Dean’s eyes run the length of his body and shivered despite himself.

“Ground rules.” Cas finally caught Dean’s eye, refusing to break eye contact. Dean looked curious, and Cas continued. “You do not speak unless I give you permission. You answer our questions, and nothing more. You will not be alone with Sam at any point in time. I will kill you if you try to hurt him.” He paused to ensure Dean understood. He saw the corner of his mouth turn up slightly at the corner. Dean was enjoying himself.

“Well, you’re no fun. We gotta get that stick out of your ass soon,” he laughed under his breath before holding up two fingers, “Alright alright, scout’s honor. Promise I’ll play nice.” Dean’s face fell for a moment, the false bravado becoming too heavy to bear. “I just want to ask him one thing. I just want to know why he ran.”

Cas was shocked at the confession, never knowing a demon to express so much humanity, such insecurity, before. Unable to reconcile the knowledge that Dean was not actually possessed, just victim to a biblical curse, he opened his mouth, sputtering, trying to determine how to respond, before aborting the action, teeth clicking together as he slammed his jaw shut. He looked at the time on his phone. Sam and Gabe should be here any minute. He mulled over how to fill the silence, awkwardness creeping in on him as he watched Dean, normally so sure of himself, now looking down at the ground, defeat settling heavy on his shoulders.

“You know, Sam said we would have gotten along before...everything.” Cas barely recognized his own voice, the words flying unbidden from his mouth. He sounded timid, scared. Weak, but hopeful. Dean snapped his eyes up to Cas’s, green overtaking everything else in his vision. Those damn eyes would be the death of him.

Dean laughed, ugly and forced, “Did he, now? I don’t know about friends, but I definitely wouldn’t say no to some benefits.”

Cas smiled, despite himself. The constant flirtation was growing on him. He didn’t know how much longer he could deny the pull he felt to Dean, a magnetism he couldn’t begin to explain. It was more than just appearances. Dean was handsome, there was no denying that. But this transcended purely physical attraction, as if Castiel was drawn to his brightly burning soul, so bright that even Hell wasn’t able to dampen its light.

Before Cas could respond, one of the barn doors was pushed open. Sam and Gabe had arrived.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam and Gabe walked into the barn, slowly, timidly. Gabe stood slightly in front of Sam, putting himself protectively between Sam and his brother. 

Cas looked to Dean, gauging his reaction. The demon never moved, but there was a fondness that shined through the hatred that sparked like a fire in his eyes.

The atmosphere was heavy, the tension between both sets of brothers palpable. Dean broke the silence.

"Heya, Sammy. Did you get taller?" He teased. 

Sam was cold, unreceptive to Dean's weak attempt to lighten the mood. "It's Sam." He adamantly refused to meet Dean's gaze. 

Cas looked to his brother, hoping for some reassurance he had come around. He hadn't. 

"Sam, Dean has a question for you. He said he has information on the demon that killed our parents." The unspoken pleading left Cas's voice thick with emotion. He desperately needed Sam to cooperate. 

Sam turned to Cas, "You said you saw him there that night. He killed your parents. He called me that night and confirmed as much. I don't understand why you believe him." He was angry. Angrier still when his eyes flicked to Dean's throat and saw the bruises Cas left. 

Cas felt his face warm with shame. He looked down at his feet, unable to bear the judgement in Gabriel's eyes. "He's adamant his being there that night was a coincidence, that he was there pursuing your mother's murderer."

Sam shook his head, "No, you killed Azazel. I was there, Dean."

Dean pushed off from where he was leaning against the wall, moving to stand in the center of the trap. His stare was hard, emotionless. He ignored the question, posing his own instead.

"Why did you leave, Sam? I needed your help, and you bailed." There was desolation in the demon's voice. Cas felt sorry for him at that moment.

Sam lashed out, a surge of anger, "What did you expect, Dean? You'd been more homicidal by the minute, you disappeared for the hundredth night in a row, and then called me up just to say you fucked up? What else was I supposed to think happened?"

Dean crossed his arms, kicking his feet at the floor. "You know I wouldn't kill innocent people.”

"No, Dean, I _don't_ know that."

Dean couldn’t look at Sam at the insinuation. Cas couldn’t believe how different he was acting, Sam’s presence obviously causing something uncertain within Dean. He had seemed almost proud in the church basement, nearly bragging about his past kills, taking pride in it. This was different. There was betrayal painted across both their faces as they thought back on what had happened. Sam had become unable to trust his brother to tell him the truth, and Dean couldn’t reconcile the brother that he would obviously have done anything for with the one that had abandoned him at the first real sign that Dean was struggling. 

Dean was the first to break the silence that had settled oppressively over the group.

“I was trying so hard, Sammy. So hard to be good. The Mark changed me, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.” He sounded so human in that moment, desperate to have his brother back. 

Sam was more than unwilling.

He spat back his response, “I've heard enough bullshit, Dean. You can’t continue to justify your actions like this. You were strong enough, and you could have fought this. I know you could have then, and I know you still could now. But you can’t change if you don’t want to. And if the things I’ve heard about you since I left are anything to go by, you definitely don’t want to,” he turned to Gabe, ignoring the pitying look on his face, “Come on, Gabe. This was a mistake.” He grabbed him by the hand, storming out of the barn, leaving Dean and Cas alone once again.

Cas couldn’t look at him, ashamed that he had let his attraction to Dean cloud his judgement, putting Sam and Gabe in this monumentally fucked up situation. He wanted to leave, wanted to leave Dean in the Devil’s Trap to rot, to be done with this entire situation.

But he needed that name.

Dean cleared his throat, drawing Cas’s attention back to him. Dean licked his lips and ran a hand down his face. Cas couldn’t help the way his throat dried up, how his eyes flicked to Dean’s lips.

“Ya know, we weren’t always like that,” Dean began, almost as if he was trying to apologize for the family argument Cas had just witnessed, “Back in the day, me and Sammy...we were inseparable. Kid was always following me around at school, waiting for wrestling practice to be over so he could ride home with me. Shit was a lot simpler back then. Before Mom died.”

Cas couldn’t hide the sharp inhale at the mention of the Winchester matriarch. Why was Dean opening up like this? Why was a _demon_ emotionally laying himself bare for Castiel right now? A voice at the back of Castiel’s mind spoke up in answer.

_He’s not really a demon though, is he?_

And Castiel couldn’t argue with that voice. Dean was, somewhere in there, still a human. He stayed quiet, silently begging for Dean to continue, desperate to know the man even more.  
  
“Mom and Dad were both hunters, came from a whole line of ‘em, but they quit the life when I was born. I knew all about the evil out there, but other than keeping Sammy and me safe, it was like ghosts, demons, werewolves, none of that shit existed. And then Mom died,” he let out a bitter laugh, Cas straining to hear his story spoken softly under his breath, his eyes flashed over to meet Cas’s bewildered gaze, “but I guess you know about all that. “

Castiel took that as his cue to speak up, “Yes. Although, I will say, I believed the papers at first that your father had lost his mind in grief,” he matched Dean’s hushed tone, as if afraid to scare a wounded animal, “It wasn’t until I found a video of you and your brother at the Morton House that I believed there might be some truth to it. And then of course, you verified that fact for me earlier.” Dean raised his eyebrow, corner of his mouth tugging up in the beginnings of a smile.

“Morton House, huh? Found that old video, I guess. Yeah, that was a pretty interesting hunt. That poor kid though.” Dean’s face fell for a moment, “Poor fuck let a pretty face drag him into something he never should have been looking at in the first place. Fuckin’ amateurs.” 

“I didn’t know one of them died…” Cas could feel sorrow flowing through his body. It was always hard when this life took someone from their friends and family, even more so when it was a kid that had no business hunting in the first place. Before Cas could continue down that dark path, Dean’s voice cut through.

“Do you want to know what really happened that night? You held up your side of the bargain, so I gotta follow through on my end.” Dean returned to the wall, leaning back against it, one hip thrown out to the side. 

Cas couldn’t help but notice how perfect he looked, bathed in moonlight coming in through the barn doors, candles throwing his strong jaw line into a sharp relief. He moved his head just enough to prompt Dean into continuing his story, Cas's mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“A few years back, Dad was already gone, Sam was out at Stanford on some big shot scholarship, and I was picking up cases where I could find them. He and I still talked, he’d help out on cases out that way, but that was pretty much it. I stumbled on a possession out in Illinois, seemed pretty straightforward, so I headed to take care of it myself, but the son of a bitch really didn’t want to go back down to Hell. Was spitting out everything I possibly could have wanted to hear, and mostly I ignored it. I wasn’t until he brought up Mom that I started to listen. He said Dad had gotten a small fish, the guy that did the deed, but not the one that ordered it. He, uh, spilled the rest of the story after some...persuasion,” he paused, giving Cas the opportunity to speak up. 

Cas just leaned back against the table he had pressed Dean into not even an hour earlier. He held out his hand, gesturing for Dean to continue his story. Dean heaved in a breath, mentally bracing himself.

“I reached out to a…,” Dean laughed as he pushed off the wall, beginning to slowly pace around the confines of the Devil’s Trap, “well, he’s not a friend, really. Has Sam told you about Crowley?” He looked questioningly at Cas. He didn’t continue speaking until Cas answered, stating he was aware they knew the King of Hell.

“You’ll have to tell me the story of that acquaintance next,” Cas responded mirthlessly.

“It’s a date,” the demon threw back with a wink.

“Anyway, Crowley put some feelers out, couldn’t figure out who it actually was, but agreed to keep digging, in exchange for my help with some up-and-comer trying to throw him off the throne. Devil you know and all that, so it was a mutually beneficial situation. When he called me up about some weapon that was necessary to knock out the competition, I didn’t think twice, going to get it with him. Once we got out there, he decided to let me in on the fact that the guy there should have known who killed Mom. We were at this little bee farm, middle of nowhere, when Crowley started shitting his pants over the beekeeper walking our way. Goes on and on about how its the Father of Murder, wasn’t who he thought it was, how we needed to get out of there right then, blah blah. And then I found out he was right.” Dean was standing as close as he could to Cas, toeing the edge of the Trap. Cas kept his distance, holding down his spot up against the table, eyes pinned on Dean, waiting to see if the Devil’s Trap really was keeping him within it. It seemed to truly be working.

“It was Cain.” 

Cas felt his jaw go slack.

“ _The_ Cain? Like, Cain and Abel, biblical, _Cain?”_ Cas knew that the Mark Dean bore was, historically, from Cain, but not the actual biblical character himself. The websites he had seen only theoretically discussed it being passed down through bloodlines, but said nothing about coming from the actual Cain himself.

Dean laughed, loud and beautiful, and Cas wanted to hear the sound on repeat. “That’s the one. That was kinda my reaction about the whole thing. Long story short, I fought with some demons, he told me I reminded him of himself, and then one weird handshake later, I’ve got this thing on my arm,” He pulled up the rolled sleeves of his button down, forearm up, displaying the symbol burned into his skin, red and angry. Cas pushed off the table, quickly moving to stand in front of Dean. His hands reached out to touch Dean’s skin without conscious permission, gripping him tightly at the wrist. His free hand reached forward more tentatively, eyes searching Dean’s face for permission to touch his skin, to run his fingers over the curse burned just below the crease of his elbow. Fire burned deep in his gut, a fire that was reflected in the hunger in Dean’s eyes. Dean surged forward, pressing their lips together hard, but only for a moment. Cas pulled away in a daze, arms dropping to his side as he slowly moved back. Their brothers were just outside, after all. Dean didn’t allow the rejection to phase him for a second, quickly diving back into the story.

“I felt a little weird at first. Didn’t think anything of it. And then Crowley found the First Blade, the weapon we had been looking for since before I even agreed to help him. You can’t wield the Blade without the Mark, though. Sammy was right though, the first time I touched the damn thing, it was all over. I could feel it...changing me. I tried to bury it down, take out all the rage on vamps, ghouls, any hunt I could get my hands on. It wasn’t enough though.” Dean paused again in the story, looking to the doors, as if he expected to see Sam walking back in. When he didn’t, Dean raised his voice, in hopes Sam would hear him despite the distance.

“Sam! You’re going to want to hear this next part.” Dean waited, refusing to speak again until Sam and Gabe had rejoined them. The two of them made their way back inside slowly, reluctant to be in Dean’s presence again. It was obviously affecting Sam in a very negative way. Cas had never seen him look so distraught, his hand closed tightly around Gabriel’s. They came to stand behind Cas, keeping their distance. Dean turned to Sam and dove right back into their earlier conversation.

"Azazel was small time. Remember that bee farm Crowley took me to?" Sam huffed out his disdain, as if he could forget the day. Dean continued as if he hadn't heard it. "Guy there told me the name of the guy in charge. Chick. Whatever. The demon that ordered the hit in the first place," his icy glare turned on Castiel, softening around the edges as he settled on Cas's face. "The demon that killed your folks."

Castiel's face hardened. This was it. If he really could believe Dean, then he had wasted three years of his life chasing the wrong demon. The one that had actually killed his parents was probably still out there. He could only hope no one else had lost their lives while Cas was hunting Dean.

"Tell me her name, Dean. I held up my side of the bargain. Sam is here. Now it's your turn to pay up." Cas’s voice was dark with intensity. He needed to know.

“Abbadon.”


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel could feel his heart pounding, couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing through his veins. He had a name. He could finally get his revenge. Could finally make all this right. Some part of him could hear Sam and Gabe attempting to get his attention, but mentally, he was already running through his next steps, having Charlie help him look into the lore, track down some demons for information, maybe Dean knew where she was, if he could just keep him talking.

“Cas, Angel, snap out of it.”

 _Dean._ His voice broke through Cas’s internal planning, Cas’s eyes searching wildly for Dean’s, glazing past the confused and surprised looks Sam and Gabe had turned on him. 

Dean turned to Gabe, the first actual interaction they’d ever had. “He do that a lot?” 

Gabe’s mouth hung slack at the ridiculousness of it all, a demon checking up on his brother. Cas got a hold of himself, turning on Dean.

“Where is she, Dean?” Anger was burning through his body. He wanted answers. He didn’t have time for this. 

Sam spoke up.

“You have any proof? No? You’re lying. If you didn’t do it, then why did Cas see you there?” He moved forward, coming at his brother like he was ready to physically fight through Gabe to have his chance to hit Dean. 

Gabe turned to face him, hands a steady pressure on his chest.

“Sam, don’t. Let him finish,” he threw a skeptical glance over his shoulder, eyes flicking between Dean and Castiel, unsure who was more worrisome at that point: Cas, barely able to focus on anything around him, shaken to the core by having an actual lead, or Dean, staying in the Trap but with no confirmation it was actually holding him there.

Cas’s eyes were locked on Dean. If he was telling the truth...what would that mean? He was cursed. Was there a chance Cas could help him? Give Sam his brother back? Return Dean’s humanity?

Dean spoke up before he could determine an answer. “He saw me because I was there. I was there for the same reason he was,” Sam pushed forward against Gabriel, but Dean continued, "Abbadon was there that night. I was so close, Sammy,” he looked to his brother, eyes wide, pleading for his understanding, his belief, “I almost had her,” his gaze dropped to the floor once again. His voice was soft, wet with emotion, “When I called you, it wasn’t because I killed them. It was because I couldn’t stop her first. I let her get away. She was right _there._ ” His voice rose as he turned to the wall, throwing a punch that cracked the wood slats. Cas would deny the arousal pulsing through his body at the display of strength until the day he died.

None of them moved at Dean’s anger, no one took a breath. Gabe finally broke the silence, his eyes moving ceaselessly between the three other men in the room.

“Well, Samshine and I are gonna get out of here. You two probably need to...talk. He and I definitely need to.” Without waiting for a response, he began to pull on Sam’s hand, leading him to the doors; Sam followed with minimal effort on Gabe’s part. 

And just like that, Dean and Cas were alone for the third time that night. Cas felt a buzz throughout his body, a ringing in his ears. Unsure of what to do with Dean trapped there, he began to pace. He thought back on that night, hard as he could, trying to remember something, anything, that corroborated Dean’s version of the night. Searching his memories for any hints of a woman being there that night. He continually came up blank.

“ _Castiel,”_ Dean spoke as if he had been calling his name for a while now. 

Cas didn’t acknowledge him, just continued his route back and forth in front of the table, head down, tracking the steps he took. 

"Cas, babe, look at me," Dean pleaded.

Cas stopped pacing, turning to look at Dean, still stuck in the Devil's Trap. He grabbed a knife off the table, slowly approaching Dean. He squatted down by the outer edge of the trap, scraping the paint away to break the spell. Dean began to move forward, but Cas held up a hand, stopping him.

"Do you know where she is now?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "I've gotten lucky a few times over the years. Crowley's been helping me, but we've gotten, uh...side tracked a time or two. Gotten carried away at too many karaoke nights."

Cas snorted, unable to picture Dean doing karaoke at all, let alone with the literal King of Hell. "Now that's something I would love to see." His eyes roamed the demon's face, tracking the trail of bruises down his neck where they disappeared under the collar of Dean's shirt.

"Hey, I'm fucking phenomenal at karaoke. Not my fault no one else can recognize talent." Dean's eyes lit up and the corner of his mouth turned up at the loud genuine laugh the comment pulled from Cas. 

They smiled at each other, falling silent. Dean stepped closer still to Castiel, their chests only inches apart. He snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him in close for a kiss, deep and dirty. Cas couldn't fight him off even if he wanted to. He was beginning to realize he _really_ didn't want to. 

Cas jumped when he felt Dean's hand reach into his back pocket, separating himself from the demon's hold. He saw his phone in Dean's hand, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"Just putting my number in for ya. Don't have to do a whole summoning ritual next time you wanna...talk." Dean winked, just in case the innuendo wasn't apparent enough, handing Cas his phone back. Cas glanced down at the screen and couldn't help the heat creeping up his neck at the sight of Dean's name on the contact card.

"What now?" Cas asked him, tucking his phone back into his pocket, voice barely more than a whisper. He had no leads on Abbadon, still so many questions left unanswered.

"Now, you go. And I move on. I said my piece to Sammy. Got to be getting back," Dean looked conflicted, as if he wanted to stay right where he was.

"Getting back to where?"

"I've been helping Crowley out. Both want the same bitch dead. She's the one trying to take over for him downstairs, and that really wouldn't be beneficial to anyone. He's probably wondering where I went." Dean began to move towards the exit.

"Wait!" Cas called, arm outstretched towards Dean's retreating form. Dean stopped and turned to look at Cas, moving closer to each other once again, moths drawn to each other's flame. "Is it permanent? The Mark."

Something sparked in Dean's eyes, quickly buried. His head dropped, focusing on the floor. He smiled, crooked and charming, one shoulder raising in a shrug.

"What, not too fond of how badly you wanna fuck a monster?" He drew his head up quickly, soft smile hardening, warping into an ugliness he'd never shown before. His eyes were solid black.

Cas had no answer for that. He stared back in uneasy silence.

"Yeah, I figured," the black slid away to reveal Cas's new favorite color once again, a pressure in his chest lightening slightly. "Yeah there's a way. Waste of time though, if you ask me." Dean waved it off.

"You don't think you deserve to be saved."

"No. I don't."


	11. Chapter 11

When Dean left the church, he briefly considered going back to his motel room, but there was a fire burning inside him, some unknowable want, a  _ need _ he couldn't put his finger on. It had happened the first night he saw Castiel, and again at the church, a magnetic pull he didn't feel he could explain away as a simple physical attraction.

He went to the closest bar instead.

Perfectly content with drowning his sorrows alone in a bottle of cheap whiskey, he pretended to ignore the hungry stares of the other patrons. Men and women alike were eyeing him like he was a piece of meat, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Normally, he would welcome the attention. He would pick one of the barflies, throw some pick up line half heartedly in their direction, and that's all it would take. He would fall into bed with them and wake up alone the next morning. But now, he couldn't bring himself to look at the prospective partners, choose one or two (or however many were willing) to invite back to his motel room. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was  _ blue. _

The bartender approached him silently, pouring Dean another shot without asking. Dean lifted his head slightly in thanks. He tossed back the shot, placing the glass back down with a  _ thud _ . He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He answered without looking to see who it was. Only one person ever called him.

“What do you want, Crowley? I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now,” he barked into the receiver.

“Hello to you, too, darling. Where’d you run off to? Sounds like you saw your boyfriend again. How’d it go?” Smarmy asshole. 

Dean couldn’t stand the guy, but somehow their reluctant friendship was the only good thing left in Dean’s life. He sighed heavily.

“Just get your ass down here,” Dean didn’t wait for a response. He flagged down the bartender, “Beer and whatever drink comes with a fruit skewer and an umbrella.” By the time the bartender set the drinks down in front of him, he was no longer alone.

“Dean, perhaps it’s about time to get back to tracking down Abbadon, hmm?” 

Crowley looked almost out of place in the dirty dive bar down the road from the motel. Most patrons were in flannel and trucker caps, Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots. Crowley was clad in his standard dark suit, covered with his black peacoat. He looked... _ pretentious. _ Sounded pretentious.

“The fuck are you talking about, Crowley? You’re the one that started all this. Cain, the blade. You’re the one that grabbed me from that motel Sam left me in when that bitch got the best of me, took me on this...this twisted road trip. The deal was we howl at the moon. No timestamp, no expiration date,” Dean could feel the Mark burning his forearm.  He absentmindedly scratched at it, the itch he could never seem to satisfy. The urge to fully embrace hedonism only seemed to subside when he was with Cas. He almost felt...human again.

Crowley leaned forward, forearms resting on the edge of the bar top. He grabbed the cocktail Dean had ordered for him, daintily pinching the straw, and bringing it to his mouth before taking a deep sip. He turned his body to face Dean.

“We’ve howled, we’ve bayed, we-we’ve done extraordinary things to triplets. It has all been massively entertaining, and I will treasure our Flickr albums forever,” he paused, drawing in a breath as if what he would say next would be painful to force out, “But now it’s time we accept what we are and go back to work.”

Dean kept his head down, staring into the dwindling foam head of the beer in front of him. He grabbed the glass, draining it in a few heavy gulps. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally spoke. “I’m not ready yet.”

Something in Crowley’s eyes softened, the growing fondness he had developed for the elder Winchester shining through. He changed the subject gracefully, “Tell me about this  _ Castiel. _ Must be something special to tie down the infamous man whore I’ve grown to love.”

Dean snorted, a smile growing on his face without his permission. He knocked his shoulder against Crowley, “You’d like him actually. Almost as much of an asshole as you are.”

Crowley cut in, “Well, you do have a type.”

“He’s definitely hotter than you.”

“Come now, Squirrel. I’m gorgeous,” Crowley responded with mock afront, a hand flying to his chest.

“Dick,” Dean said, half hearted anger, “I, uh...I saw Sam.”

Crowley realized the laughter was over. “Ah, yes. And how is Moose these days?”

Dean shrugged. He wasn’t having this conversation with Crowley. He had gotten to a point where he considered the King of Hell his friend, although he wouldn’t quickly admit that to anyone. But Sammy was strictly off limits, no matter how many triplets they’d shared.

“Duly noted. Moose is a non-starter.” Crowley finished the last of his cocktail, pushing back abruptly from the bar top. 

He stood, looking at Dean expectantly, waiting on him to do the same. Dean obliged, grabbing a handful of bills from his back pocket, tossing it to the bar to cover his tab. He turned and followed Crowley out.

*

The next town Crowley and Dean hit looking for Abbadon was free of demons by the time they got there. The stench of sulfur covering every inch of the small town was enough to let them know they weren’t far behind the Queen and her lackeys.

However, some vamps did make the most of the ensuing chaos of a town full of soulless sons of bitches. After weeks of constant hunting with Crowley, Dean really just didn’t feel like a random hunt. What did he care if all the poor sad sacks got drained? He was trying to find Abbadon. Part of him though, a part buried deep below the Mark’s influence, just couldn’t sit around and do  _ nothing. _

Crowley had the idea first.

“Why don’t you call up your Angel then? He  _ is  _ a hunter after all.” Crowley turned slightly in the Impala’s front seat. 

He reached across to grab Dean’s cell phone from where it was laying in the middle of the bench seat. “Besides, you’ve been absolutely  _ boring _ since the last time you saw him. Is his number saved under ‘Castiel’? Or is it ‘Love of my Life’?

Without looking away from the road, Dean threw his arm out, grabbing his phone back from Crowley’s hand. Dean’s face was hard, carved from stone, in anger. Why did he ever think it was a good idea to tell Crowley about him?

Crowley smiled at the look on Dean’s face, delighting in having pressed a button. 

“We both know I’m right, Dean. He wants Abbadon as dead as you and I do. I’d love to meet the boy that finally has Dean Winchester hung up. Besides, don’t you think this constitutes an ‘all hands’ situation?”

Dean couldn’t argue. He opted for silence, turning the volume dial on the radio up, until they got to the next town and checked into the motel. When Dean finally had privacy, he pulled his phone out again, looking wistfully at the phone number he had saved after sending himself a message from Castiel’s phone. His thumb hovered over the call button.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been weeks since Cas had finally gotten a name. When Dean had left the barn, Cas had followed shortly after, gathering his weapons and regrouping with Charlie, Sam, and Gabe back at their apartment. They all immediately and wordlessly dove into research. Gabe or Sam had caught Charlie up on what had happened, sparing Cas from having to tell the awkward parts of the story himself. Sam was obviously still skeptical of Dean’s possible role that night, but whatever Gabriel had said to him on the ride home had led to him being helpful, albeit reluctant, with the research efforts. By the time the sun had risen, the group had a good foundation of who Abbadon was and where they could begin looking for her.

Gabe was manning the bar that night, Sam opting to hang out in his usual booth and helping out during the rush, allowing Cas and Charlie the opportunity to work on hacking into the Men of Letters’ servers away from Sam’s curious gaze. They hadn't yet figured out how, or even if, they would clue Sam in on that. It was one thing talking about hunting when they were both from hunting families. Another entirely to divulge they were part of a secret society.

Cas walked out of the kitchen, setting down a plate of pizza on the dining room table by Charlie. She smiled up at him in thanks as he returned to his seat next to her.

“Any luck yet?” he asked, pouring over an ancient tome written in Enochian that Cas had saved from his parents’ house. Charlie barely looked up from her computer screen, typing with one hand, a slice of pepperoni in the other.

“I mean, yes and no? I’m closer. But still a long ways away, too. This is some crazy coding. Even with all the help you and Gabe have given me, it's...tricky.” She took a bite of pizza, typing furiously when the food was safely returned to the plate. 

Cas opened his mouth to respond when he heard his phone ringing. He stood to go grab it from the kitchen where he had left it, lying face down on the countertop. 

His heart began to race when he flipped it over and saw the name on the display.

_ Dean Winchester _

He wandered back into the living room, slack jawed, staring down at his phone screen, still ringing shrilly in his hand.

“Cas? You look like you saw a ghost...or something a hunter would actually be scared by, I guess?” She laughed at her attempt at a joke. Cas stayed silent. The phone stopped ringing.

Cas felt like he could breathe again, eyes finding Charlie’s face and smiling weakly at her. He heard the phone ring again.

“You gonna get that?” She asked, confused at Castiel’s reaction.

He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Cas could hear the squeal Charlie tried to muffle with her hands, both brought up to her face to cover her mouth. The immediate attention Charlie pinned him with prompted him to leave the room, making his way down the hallway to his bedroom.

He heard Charlie call out behind him, “You’re going to talk to me about it one of these days, Novak! I’m annoyingly persistent.”

He closed the door to his room, pressing his back up against as he awaited Dean’s response. Part of him almost hoped it was an accidental call, although two calls back to back seemed to disprove that theory.

“Hey there, Angel,” Dean sounded nearly relieved that Cas had actually answered the call that time. 

Cas hardened his voice, refusing to allow the demon to know just how fond of him Cas had grown, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing Cas had been praying every night that Dean would call him. Just to hear that smooth-as-whiskey voice again. 

“What do you want?” Castiel answered with feigned indifference. He could hear Dean laughing on the other end of the call.

“Now, that’s a long list of things, Cas. I want to have you bent over in that barn for me again. I want a teenager’s refraction time again. But neither of those things is what I called about.”

Cas couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips at Dean’s constant flirting and joking. He let the smile bleed into his tone, unwilling to fight his attraction in the private safety of his bedroom, “Why did you call then?” He sounded fond, not demanding like he had before. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dean didn’t mind either way. 

“What are you wearing?”

Cas smiled. “Jeans and a shirt. Nothing special. Why did you call, Dean?”

Dean huffed over the phone, “You’re no fun, huh? I, uh, stumbled upon a vamp nest. Thought you might want to take care of it. Only a couple hours away from you, in Oberlin.”

“You’re a hunter. Why don’t you take care of it?” Cas countered.

"Don't really hunt anymore. Besides, Crowley and I have to be somewhere. No time to knock out a vamp nest." 

Cas could tell there was something Dean wasn't telling him, but decided to not press the matter. He sighed.

"Alright, send me the details. I'll head that way in a second. Do you know how many?" Cas began to grab his things, change of clothes, weapons bag. He stepped into his boots, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he laced them up.

"Three or four. Shouldn't be too tough for a big, strong hunter like you," Dean purred over the receiver. 

"Gonna give me a big head if you keep complimenting me like that."

"Oh, I bet it's  _ real _ big."

"Dean," Cas warned, "I'm not having  _ phone sex _ with you right now."

Dean laughed, "Some other time then."

"That's not-" Cas shook his head.

"Alright, alright. I'll be good. Cross my heart and all that."

There was a lull in the conversation, both of them unwilling to end it, but unsure what else to say.

"Are you looking for Abbadon?" Cas asked, aiming for a tone of innocence.

Dean didn't say anything.

"Do you have a lead on where she is? I could help."

Still silence. 

Cas sighed, heavy and exaggerated. "Fine. I'll stop asking. I want her dead just as much as you though, Dean. Don't forget that."

"I'll text you the location of the nest. I'll see you around, Angel."

Something came over Cas then, a worry for Dean's safety he couldn't understand. "Be safe, Dean," he spoke softly, earnestly. He received no response, assuming Dean had hung up already.

"You too, Cas."

The line went dead.

Cas fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The pull he felt towards Dean, this intense  _ need _ to ensure his safety, he couldn't begin to understand it. He felt his phone vibrate in his outstretched hand. Dean had sent him the location of the nest.

Castiel grabbed his things and made his way back to the living room. Charlie looked up at him expectantly, no doubt hoping for some details of the phone call.

"What was that about?" If not for the shit eating grin plastered on her face, the question would have come off as innocent.

"I have to go. Dean found a vampire nest. I need to go take care of it." Cas grabbed his wallet and keys off the table. "Will you be fine up here by yourself until the bar is closed? Sam and Gabe will be right downstairs if you need anything."

"Is  _ Dean _ going to be there?" She shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter awaiting the answer.

Cas rolled his eyes, " _ No _ , Charlie. Goodbye."

On his way out, he filled Gabe in briefly, waved off Sam's offer for help, telling him it shouldn't be necessary. He jumped in his car, and headed off.

*

The hunt was simple, just a milk run. About three hours after he had set out, he was already on his way back home. He had changed clothes, so as not to have to make the two hour drive home covered in drying blood. It was late by the time he climbed the steps to the apartment, fully expecting Sam and Gabe to already be asleep.

He was wrong; the living room was full of life.

Sam was bowed over the coffee table, laptop open as he flipped through a heavy, leather bound book. Gabe and Charlie were at the dining room table, speaking in hushed whispers. Cas dropped his bag to the floor, the noise causing all three of them to turn to face him.

"Cassie! Charlie found something."


	13. Chapter 13

Cas quickly moved to join Gabe and Charlie, hovering around her computer. He was eager to see what she had managed to uncover. She had pretty strictly been put on “hack into the Men of Letters” duty, so he could only assume she had found something related to the organization. It would make sense of why Gabe and Sam were not currently attached at the hip like they had been ever since Sam moved in with them. It was for his own safety, but he and Gabe had definitely been enjoying their forced time together.

He looked over Charlie’s shoulder, but all he could see was a set of coordinates.

“What is this?” he asked, confused.

“Well, I was looking into the different chapters, seeing if I could make any headway like that, trying to find a weak link. And when I tried to access the local chapter, this popped up. Like, immediately,” Charlie opened a new tab as she spoke, searching the coordinates, “Look!”

The coordinates were for Lebanon, just outside of town. There were no buildings there that they could find. They would need to go check it out first thing in the morning. Cas leaned forward, hugging Charlie from behind.

“Good work Charlie, “ he turned to address his brother, ”You and I can go check it out tomorrow. Charlie, I can fix up the couch for you if you’d like to just stay here for the night.” He moved to go grab some extra blankets and a pillow, not waiting for an answer. 

Gabe followed after him, closing the bedroom door behind him.

“Alright, little bro. How are we about to talk to Sam about this? We’re in too deep to keep something like this from him,” Gabe circled around Cas, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

“How’s that going, by the way? You too are...inseparable.” Cas looked at his brother with a soft smile. It had been nice, seeing his brother so happy lately. Gabe mirrored his expression, eyes flicking to the door, no doubt thinking fondly of the man in their living room. He ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s been really good. I’m...I’m definitely falling for the kid,” he chuckled, as if he surprised himself with the admission, “He deserves to know everything. I want to tell him _everything_.”

Cas looked at his brother, felt the happiness he exuded. “Alright. However you want to handle it. I support you, Gabriel. I’m really happy for you.” Cas gathered the dressings for Charlie’s bed for the night.

“What about you?” Gabe asked tentatively.

Cas looked at him blankly, hoping he wasn’t asking what he thought he was, “What do you mean?”

Gabe sighed and pushed up off the bed. “You know what I mean, Cas. I wasn’t going to say anything, but Charlie told me he called you. That he was the one that told you about the hunt. Was he there?”

Cas didn’t answer, just shook his head. He hoped Gabe would drop it. He was wrong.

“Look. I saw the hickeys at the barn. I’ve seen how you’ve reacted every time you see him, or someone even says his damn name. I’m not exactly _thrilled_ you’re pursuing a demon, but it’s definitely a fucked up situation, him not actually being possessed and all. I’m just saying, I support you too. You better be fucking careful, but you’re a grown ass man. Can’t tell you what to do anymore.” Gabe made for the door, having said his bit. Cas reached out, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Gabe’s ear.

His brother slapped him on the back before pulling away, “Don’t mention it, Cassie. You deserve to be happy, too.” Gabe looked up at him with a small smile.

“He said it could be reversed. The Mark.”

Gabe’s smile faltered, “No way.”

Cas nodded his head solemnly, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ll have Charlie look into it more.” Gabe didn’t continue before making his way back out to the living room. Cas followed shortly after.

For weeks, all Cas had been able to think about was Dean, about what he had said before he left the barn that night. He didn’t have to stay a demon. Cas wanted to convince him to take back his humanity, but he didn’t know how to begin. Dean was obviously content living as he was.

Cas pulled out his phone after handing the blankets and pillows to Charlie, allowing her to get set up for the night. Cas pulled out his phone, opening up a text to Dean.

Cas:

_Took care of the nest._

The response was immediate.

Dean:

_Good. I'll let you know if we come across anything else._

Cas:

_We?_

Dean:

_Me and Crowley. Dude thinks he's a hunter, but he's no help. Too worried about getting his damn coat dirty._

Cas laughed to himself before responding.

Cas:

_What are you two doing?_

Dean:

_Karaoke night._

Cas:

_I would pay to see that._

He smiled down at his phone when he saw Dean's response.

Dean:

_Maybe you can come next time._

Cas:

_I think I would like that._

Dean didn't respond for a while. Cas sent another message.

Cas:

_Might have a lead on Abbadon pretty soon._

Dean's response was instantaneous.

Dean:

_You should stop looking for her. It's too dangerous._

Cas scoffed.

Cas:

_You worried about me? I can take care of myself._

When Dean didn't respond, Cas pocketed his phone. He bid Charlie goodnight; Gabe and Sam had already made their way to bed. Cas got a glass of water from the kitchen before making his way to his room. He threw his clothes into the hamper before climbing into bed.

His phone began to ring, Dean's name lighting up the dark room.

Cas reached over to answer it. 

"Dean?"

"Heya, Cas." His words were slightly slurred, and Cas could hear muffled talking in the background, Dean no doubt still at whatever bar he was patronizing that night.

"I take it you're having fun at karaoke?" 

Dean laughed softly, "Sure am. But that's not why I called."

"I'm not having phone sex with you, Dean." Cas rolled his eyes, hoping it was conveyed properly in his tone.

"No, I...I _am_ worried about you," he whispered the confession. "You don't heal like I do. You could get hurt. I've lost too many people to that bitch, Cas. I…I can't lose you too…"

Castiel was speechless. He tried and tried to think of a response to Dean's confession, and he continually came up blank. Dean was baring his soul to Cas in that moment, and Cas, for the life of him, didn't know what to say. Dean continued for him, the alcohol quickly loosening his tongue.

“I feel... _human_ with you, Cas. And I hate it. I didn’t look for Sammy when he took off because even before I became a demon, just with the Mark, I could feel it,” he began speaking faster, as if now that he had begun to talk, he couldn’t slow the stream of words pouring out of him “My humanity, what was left trying to take back over. And I was planning on... _fixing_ that problem. It’s why I was in town in the first place, to finish off the last bit of humanity I still had left. And then I saw you again and...and…” Dean let out a shaky breath, fear and _something_ rushing out of his body. “And then everything changed.”

“Dean…” Castiel said his name like a prayer, like it was the answer to life itself.

“Cas,” Dean sighed, a weight falling off his shoulders. 

Silence resonated, deafening over the phone. 

“Just let me help you. I have...resources that most hunters don’t have. We can find a cure. I can _save y-_ ”

“No,” Dean’s voice was hard, leaving no room for discussion. “I can’t, Cas. Don’t you understand that? If I’m a demon, I don’t have to make any amends, don’t have to think about what I’ve done, I can just keep...howling at the moon. I can be who I am, warts and all. The second I’m human again, it all goes back to how it was, taking care of everyone else, saving everyone else. I’m like this, nothing matters. None of the bad shit I’ve done has any real consequences.” Dean fell silent, words left unspoken. Like he was on the cusp of...something. Something important.

Cas allowed the silence to hang heavy between them, the realization that if Dean is human again, all this becomes real, crashing over them both. Neither of them knew how to quantify whatever was happening between them. Cas couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Dean, couldn’t ignore what felt like destiny, fate tying the two of them together, no matter the cost. And if Dean’s terrified monologue was anything to go by, the feeling was mutual.

“I understand.”

*

Cas stayed up for longer than he would care to admit talking to Dean. They competed over who had the most impressive hunt, Dean told him the story about the Morton House, swapped stories about growing up in hunting families, although they had very different experiences after Dean’s mother had died.

He awoke with his phone pressed against his face, having fallen asleep before ending the call like he was some teenager with their first crush. He needed to talk to Charlie about that cure if Gabe hadn’t already. 

Castiel made his way into the kitchen where Sam was hovering over the coffee maker, Gabe close by. Gabe turned to face his brother, a wry smile growing as he took in Cas’s disheveled appearance, the bags under his eyes.

“Late night, little bro?” Gabe and Sam broke out into laughter at Cas’s expense. 

Cas pinned them both with a glare that could kill, promptly quieting the noise, too loud for how early it was and how tired Cas actually was.

“Sam, Gabriel and I need to talk to you about something,” he figured sooner than later was better. Rip off the bandaid.

They weren’t quiet for long though.

Gabe calmed down for long enough to turn to Cas and explain.

“I told him this morning. Definitely didn't go how we thought it would go, that’s for sure.”

“So, get this,” Sam interrupted, “I’m a legacy too. Kansas chapter. Our mom was a Campbell, long line of hunters. Men of Letters brought them all into the fold around the time our parents met. Grandfather was Men of Letters, recognized Mom’s last name the first time Dad brought her around from some recruitment initiative. They had stopped actively hunting once Dean was born, but we were raised at least _knowing_ about what was out there. Shit, guys, I’d been trying to figure out how to bring it up to _you_ two.”

Cas was astounded at how overwhelmingly coincidental Sam’s entrance to their lives had really been. Not only was he a hunter, he was Men of Letters, raised into this world in a similar fashion he and Gabe had been. If ever Cas had questioned the existence of fate, he no longer did.

“Dumb regional segregation. I know it was just supposed to protect the whole group, minimize loss, yada, yada. But definitely would have made all this a bit easier without it,” Gabe shrugged before pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee mug. Cas remained silently stunned as he walked forward, pouring himself a cup next, black.

He took a sip, scalding hot on his tongue, before making his way back into the living room, planning on getting the coordinates Charlie had found last night. 

He called behind him, “Did you ask him about the coordinates Charlie found?” 

He sat down on the couch next to her, where she was awake with the blankets still pulled up around her. 

Charlie handed Cas a scrap of paper with the series of numbers scrawled on it, reaching forward for the tv remote to scroll through Netflix, “I’ll stay here and open the bar if you guys wanna head out now.” 

Cas thanked her as he continued to drink his coffee, watching Charlie scroll the cursor around on the screen to try to find something to watch.

When everyone was finished with their morning rituals, they packed up, unsure of what they might find and wanting to be prepared for anything. Cas drove them the short distance out of town, moving slowly down the old road. On first glance, there was nothing there, just the side of a cliff, but the closer they got, an entrance began to reveal itself, set into the stone. Trees passed, revealing a building, worn discolored stone, towering above.

“It looks like some sort of underground bunker,” Cas spoke quietly, rummaging for a flashlight in his pack, slung over his shoulders. He and Gabe continued forward, making their way down the short flight of steps leading to a door. 

Sam was frozen behind them.

Gabe called back to him, “What’s up, Samshine?” Cas looked back over his shoulder at the taller man, now rummaging frantically through his bag, a determined look on his face. He looked up at them, pulling a small, flat, golden box slowly from his bag. He finally began to move forward again, with purpose. He pushed past Gabe and Castiel, opening the box and pulling out a silver burnished key. He fit it into the keyhole on the door, turning the lock with a booming _click._

“What the fuck, Sam?” Cas followed him into the bunker, flashlight leading the way. 

There was a raised walkway immediately inside. He stopped to look around, out of date electronics covering the walls and the tables below, a giant table in the middle of the open room. He saw a chess board, a full ashtray with two empty glasses on either side. A large cable box was mounted on the wall by the entrance. Cas got Gabe’s attention, flicking the flashlight to the box. Gabe walked over to it, revealing the two large metal switches inside.

Gabe grabbed the handle, pulling it up. Incandescent lights flickered on throughout the building. Marble and metal everywhere, the bunker felt like something from the 50s or 60s, the early Americana, the indulgence of the immaculately cared for equipment despite a light layer of dust, the luxury of the materials. The table Cas saw earlier was backlit with a world map. Gabe flipped the second switch. The trio rushed down the spiral stairs in awe.

The next room over had been lit up: a library with study tables placed in the center. Antique weaponry decorated the shelves. Cas and Sam started reading the spines of the books nearest them while Gabe played with a scimitar he found.

“It’s all lore. Every single one of these. Sam, where the hell did you get that key?” While Cas awaited Sam’s response, he began pulling off any book he saw regarding demons and curses. Cas had never seen a library like this. And for every bit of it to be related to the supernatural—incredible.

“It’s the region’s bunker. You guys should have had one in Illinois somewhere too. Wait,” Sam looked back at Gabriel over his shoulder as he pulled out a book and set it on the table nearest him, “are you guys actually from Chicago?” 

Gabe laughed, “Yeah, that part’s true. Well, Pontiac. But everyone considers the whole state to be an extension of Chicago...” Sam nodded and smiled back at Gabe, smitten. He turned back towards the shelves as Gabe continued,” Don’t know anything about a _bunker_ though. When did you find out?”

“Maybe a year or so before Dad died? I dunno,” Sam said, still walking and examining books. “You know, uh, Dad went a little rogue after Mom. Kinda broke ties with the Men of Letters when they didn’t believe him.”

Sam moved to sit down at the table. Gabe followed suit.

“Had this whole theory about how demons were specifically targeting Men of Letters, when they shouldn’t know the organization even existed. And that was why Mom died. One night, he just pulls me aside, gives me this box, and tells me it's a key to the safest place in the world. Tells me I have to keep it safe.”

“Maybe Mom and Dad had one for Illinois’s. One key per generation?” Cas shrugged as he pulled out a heavy, leather bound copy of _Rituals of Human Possession_ and set it behind him, “I’m going to find out how big this place is.” 


	14. Chapter 14

After everyone was settled at the bunker and Gabe returned from picking up dinner, Cas had called Charlie at the bar to tell her to close up early and head down to meet them. Cas had spent the time waiting on her arrival searching the bunker, finding multiple bedrooms, a large shower room, even a garage filled to the brim with every classic vehicle you could imagine. Cas couldn't help but think of how much Dean would love it.

"What's up, bitches?" Charlie bounded down the stairs, excitement at the new, unofficial home base bubbling over, "Nice digs! Where do you want me to set up?" she asked no one in particular. 

The guys were huddled around the map table, pizza box in the middle, surrounded by countless books they had carried over from the library so they could be there to welcome Charlie in.

Cas gestured vaguely, "Wherever works for you. Thank you for coming down here."

"Anything for my three favorite people!" she responded, throwing her arms around Cas in a quick hug before setting her bag on the table and pulling her laptop out. She turned to Gabe, who was hunched over an index of curses, "Gabe, can you help me with this?" 

Cas looked at her quizzically, wondering exactly what  _ this _ was. She made no move to clear up the confusion, but the look that passed over Gabe's face made it clear that he at least knew what she was talking about.

Sam barely glanced up as Gabe stood from his side, moving around to the other side of the table where Charlie was getting settled. He was engrossed in an ancient-looking book, barely held together by what was left of the spine. Sam had been furiously researching the Knights of Hell, hoping to find anything they could use against Abbadon. He was still skeptical about his brother's involvement that night, but he was willing to help Gabe in leaving no stone unturned.

They still hadn't talked to him about the likelihood of a cure for Dean, believing the Men of Letters reveal to be enough of a shock for one day, but with the amount of lore presumably stored in the bunker, their chances of finding a cure had skyrocketed. Cas took the opportunity to break the (hopefully) good news to Sam.

“Will you help me clean up, Sam?” Cas began picking up the discarded plates and beer bottles, Sam quickly jumping in to help. 

Since that night at the barn, their relationship had seemed strained, but after Cas had confided in Gabe the previous night, Sam had been back to normal. Cas could only assume Gabe had spoken with him as to Cas and Dean’s...involvement. At least he was giving Cas the benefit of the doubt.

When they had thrown away the trash and stored the leftover pizza for later, Cas turned, resting his back on the stainless steel table in the center of the kitchen, pinning Sam with his stare.

“What’s up, Cas? Look like you’ve got something to say.” Sam crossed his arms, looking at Castiel expectantly.

Cas got off to a slow start, unsure exactly how to phrase this. “I know you’ve come to terms with the loss of your brother. If...if you could help him though, would you? Despite everything he’s done since bearing the Mark of Cain, becoming a demon. If you could get  _ human _ Dean back—”

“I would do anything,” Sam cut in quickly. He ran a hand through his long hair and sighed, “But I looked, Cas. As soon as he came home with that damn Mark, I looked for how to get rid of it. There’s nothing.” His voice was tinged with guilt and sadness, still fresh years later, thinking on how he couldn’t save his brother.

“Did you have access to lore to this extent before, though? Sam, we haven’t even finished looking through the bunker, there could be something here,” Cas pushed off the table and stood next to Sam in the middle of the room. He reached out an arm to clasp Sam’s shoulder. “Dean said—” Sam took a step back, putting himself out of reach, Cas’s next words dying on his lips.

“Look, Cas. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Dean.  _ But that’s not Dean. _ That’s a demon. Gabe and Charlie are obviously indulging this little...hunter’s fantasy or whatever the fuck it is. But someone needs to be straight with you. You’re falling for a demon. And that’s a dangerous road to go down. Believe me,” Sam huffed a laugh through his nose, sarcastic grin turning up the corners of his mouth. 

He turned away, unable to face Cas any longer, traumatic story struggling to break out of him. Cas only hoped he would at least confide in Gabe one day. He could see Sam struggling to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he wasn’t the type to share the load.

Sam turned to leave. Cas spoke up before he was out of ear shot.

“I’m going to save him, Sam.”

Sam turned around, soft smile and puppy dog eyes, as if he pitied Castiel’s blind belief in the brother that let Sam down when he succumbed to the Mark of Cain’s power. 

“I know you will, Cas.”

*

“How’s it going, Charles? Anything yet?” Gabe asked, moving around the map table dishing out beers and snacks to everyone. They had been holed up in the bunker for days digging through every inch of the place in hopes of finding anything that could be helpful. Sam had begun taking an inventory of the storerooms after bursting into the main entry, going on and on about the rarities he had discovered.

“Essence of  _ Krakken _ . Fucking  _ Angel Feathers?  _ Do you know how many spells we could perform with all this?” He looked like a kid taking their first trip to the candy store, discovering how many different flavors of jelly beans existed.

Charlie didn’t answer, continuing to type one handed as she took a lengthy pull from the proffered beer bottle. Cas and Gabe had learned over the last couple of years it was best not to bother her when she was as deep into a project as she was then.

Gabe patted her on the shoulder before taking his seat to Sam’s left, diving back into the book in front of him. Cas was looking through a journal he had found in the control room, a personal log of the bunker, how it works, what it contains, no doubt belonging to an original chapter member. Thanks to the journal, they had discovered the warding protecting the bunker, learned the building was completely self-sufficient, no worrying about any utilities, several rooms they hadn’t found yet were mentioned, including a dungeon that Gabe had made  _ way _ too many lewd comments involving he and Sam for anyone’s liking.

Cas continued to skim across the page, hoping to find anything else of use.

“There’s a records room.”

Gabe was the only one that looked up, a disinterested look in his eyes until he saw the mania shining back from Castiel’s.

“Every experiment, every initiative, everything. All stored in the records room down the fucking hall,” Cas didn’t wait for any further acknowledgment. He could feel it in his bones, deep in his soul that  _ this was it _ . The answer was in that room. He jumped out of his seat, rushing down the hallway, journal still in hand. 

He double checked the room number against the journal, and pushed through the doorway.

Shelves and shelves covered in boxes surrounded him. As he moved closer, he could make out the information scrawled on index cards placed on the front of each box, information about its contents. He ran his fingers over them, reverently. The gnawing need to find this room subsided as he moved further in. He just  _ knew _ the answer was in here. He could explain the sensation about as much as he could explain his draw to Dean.

He was broken from his trance when he heard Charlie calling his name from the front room. Gabe and Sam were gathered behind her, and he moved to join them.

Charlie looked over her shoulder at the three of them, a grave look on her face. 

“You need to see this.” She hit play on the pulled up video.

The video was grainy and poor quality due to the age of the recording. It was the bunker, a back room Cas had come across earlier. Some ceremony was taking place, a sort of initiation. Men in long black robes, women in cocktail dresses, all amassed in the ceremony room. The video shook as a door banged open, a pretty redhead in a pale blue satin dress walked in with purpose. A faceless voice called to the woman in worry from out of the frame, “Josie?” 

The redhead, Josie, turned her head to the source of the voice, eyes flicking to show black. A demon.

Josie spoke, feminine and light hearted, “Sorry, darling. Josie’s not home right now.” The black drained out of her eyes before the carnage began. 

The video showed the slaughter of the entire chapter, Josie pulling members apart, throwing them to the ground. You could hear the sounds of exorcisms and spellwork in the background, but it was all for naught. Nothing slowed her down. Cas felt his reality shift, felt as if he was back in the closet at his parents’ house, watching his mother hopelessly throw everything she had at the demon the night she died.

“Abbadon,” a tinny voice from the recording breathed. She whipped her head in the direction of the man holding the camera, satin dress soaked in blood, red splattered on her cheek. She dropped the man she was holding to the ground before making her way towards him.

“Give me the key,” she ordered, tone leaving no room for contradiction. The man didn’t speak. The video shook, readjusted. A young man came into the shot, dressed in a light colored, fitted suit. Something rectangular and metal flew across the screen, landing softly in the man’s outstretched arms. Abbadon roared in anger. The man holding the camera dropped it, yelling as the camera fell to the ground.

“Run, Henry!”

Abbadon’s heels came slowly into view before the screen fell black.

No one spoke for a moment, stunned at the violence they had just witnessed.

Sam broke the silence, “That was...my grandfather.”

Cas felt the sadness hanging over the man. He had lost so many people to this life. And if Dean was to be believed, all to the same demon. Cas saw movement in his peripheral as Gabe took Sam’s hand in his.

“I bet this is how your father came to possess the key to the bunker,” Cas spoke softly. Sam nodded his head slightly.

“I..uh. I need a second. Sorry,” Sam turned to leave the room, Gabe close behind. Cas heard a door down the hallway close behind them, leaving Cas and Charlie alone. Trusting Gabe to comfort Sam, Cas sat down, pulling his chair up close to Charlie’s elbow.

“How did you find this?” he asked.

“First thing that came up really. I managed to access the server, a lot easier now that I’m, you know, in the same building as the server. This came up pretty much immediately. Almost like a warning.” She typed frantically, clicking through multiple windows, faster than Cas could follow. “This is her,” she pulled up a picture of the woman from the video, “Josie Sands. She was set to be initiated that night. I guess somewhere along the way, she was possessed by Abbadon. I’ll dig into her a bit more.”

“I’ll pull some files, too. Just found the records room. Tons of old initiatives, legacy files. Should be able to find something.” Cas gathered some of the books in front of him and stood to leave. Charlie grabbed his wrist, drawing his attention.

“I’m still working on the cure too, Cas. We’ll find something,” she smiled pityingly up at him. 

He smiled back, appreciating the gesture. Everything about her world had changed within the last few weeks, and not only was she taking it in stride, she was actively trying to help him with Dean, a  _ demon _ . He needed to take her out for dinner as a thank you once everything had settled.

He made his way back into the records room, methodically searching through each box for anything that could help. He finally found the personnel files, pulling out Josie Sands’s folder and setting it aside to look through later. He began looking through old missions. He stumbled upon a murderous safe, necromancer Nazis, all sorts of things. Nothing that could prove of any use to him though. After digging through the mountains of paperwork for hours, he could feel the eye strain setting in, a headache on the horizon. He opted to take a break, scooping up the file on Josie and making his way back into the library, where Sam and Gabe had set up their research now they were no longer holed up in the room they had claimed for themselves.

Cas tossed the folder onto the table between Gabe and Sam. “Josie’s personnel file. Haven’t looked through it yet, but there might be something helpful in there.” 

Sam reached forward and pulled the file closer towards him, opening it without a word. Cas looked over at Gabe, raising an eyebrow in question, wanting to know if Sam was going to be okay. A lot had been thrown at him recently. Gabe flashed a small, tight smile, nodding his head just slightly, silently telling Cas that he was okay enough. 

Cas sat down with them, Charlie’s keystrokes audible from the front room. She stopped. All three of them jumped to their feet when they heard her gasp, rushing to her side.

“Charlie, what is it?” Sam asked tentatively. She slammed her laptop shut.

She didn’t speak at first, whatever she had found upsetting her immensely. She took a deep, steadying breath, “I managed to access other bunker networks through this one. Almost every single one of them had a video. Just like the one taken here.” Her voice was soft, scared. “Demons have been wiping out Men of Letters bunkers for decades.” 

“Dad was  _ right,” _ Sam seemed almost relieved. “I just...I thought he was just another drunk hunter, too long in the life, ya know? I bet Henry survived long enough to tell Dad what happened. He didn’t last too long after that video was taken. Probably just long enough to pass off the key to Dad.” He ran his hands frantically through his hair, fingers twitching, balling up into a fist and relaxing.

“The damn no contact orders between the chapters,” Gabe spoke up, anger at the Men of Letters bubbling over. Even before their parents died, Gabe made it pretty obvious he didn’t want any part in the family business. “No one could make the connection because no one could talk about what was going on. And spread out over that long, I’m sure it just made it even harder to connect the dots.”

“Sam, we need to know everything your father discussed with you, in regards to this. Everything you can remember.” Cas spoke calmly, trying to portray a level head despite the storm raging inside of him. This was all too much. Sooner or later he was going to break.

“Dammit, Dean has the journal…” Sam raised his eyes to Castiel’s, “You should ask him for it. Probably give it to you before me.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion, “Journal?”

“Old school Hunter thing, apparently. He kept a journal, tracked his hunts, wrote down important lore as he came across it. It’s basically just a mass index of everything he has ever looked into regarding the supernatural. Once Mom...well, that was the only thing he cared about. Finding out what actually happened that night, how that demon found us,” he froze where he stood; Cas could almost see the lightbulb flash on above his head. He ran back into the library, grabbing Josie’s file off the table, flipping through it, eyes scanning back and forth across the words.

“So get this,” Sam looked up as he walked back into the map room, a smug grin plastered on his face, “Josie was going to be  _ Chapter Liaison. _ She was literally the perfect target for possession by a demon looking for access. She was going to be one of the only people that learned the location of every single bunker, would have access to the locations of  _ every active legacy _ .”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but why? Why does she care about the Men of Letters?” Charlie asked.

“Who knows,” Cas walked away, pacing as an outlet for the bottled energy coursing through his body. He fought the instinct to reach for his phone and call Dean. “There could be countless motives for a supernatural attack on a secret society devoted to wiping out the supernatural. Sam, Gabe, continue to look into Josie Sands. She is the best lead we have on Abbadon right now. Charlie, help me look through these records, see if we can find a reason she might be targeting the Men of Letters.” 

Cas didn’t wait on a response, immediately making his way back to the records room. He could feel Charlie close behind him. He caught her up on the organization system he was using to comb through the boxes of files and paperwork, things he pulled that could be of use, things that didn’t relate to what they needed at all. He bowed his head shyly when he pointed out the pile that was specifically relating to curse cures and reversing demonic possession. She gave him a knowing smile, mercifully not pushing the matter before heading to the far end of the room, planning on meeting Castiel in the middle. 

They worked in silence, hours passing as they read through file after file. Charlie finally spoke up, “Cas. I think I found something.”

Cas pushed up off the ground where he was sitting, carefully stepping over and around the piles of papers he was sorting through, strewn around him. He made his way over to where Charlie was, box in her lap, half the files pulled out laying open around her. She was sorting them with a method unknown to Cas. He waited patiently above her so as not to disturb the careful chaos amassed around her.

“The Men of Letters kept a record of every demon possession, going back three hundred years or so.  _ Lizzie Borden?  _ Jesus.” She continued to flip through the files, “Hey this is room 7B right?” Charlie tilted her head up and back to look at Cas.

“Yeah, why?” Cas crouched next to her, looking over her shoulder in an attempt to see what she found.

“There should be something about Case 1138. Class 5 Infernal Event.” Charlie set aside the folder she was holding before Cas could make anything out. She stood and began scanning the shelves surrounding them for the correct box. Cas hit the other rows.

“Class 5?” he asked.

“They had some ranking system. From what I can tell, Class 5 is pretty bad.”

“What’s so important about Case 1138?” Cas continued to look through box after box.

“I dunno. Just said ‘weird’ with three exclamation points in the margin. Seems worth checking out.”

Cas smiled to himself, “You know, Charlie, you’re really getting the hang of this. I, um, I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I help you? I mean, I know you’ve got this whole  _ thing _ about asking for help, think you can always take care of it yourself. But you’ve got to understand, you’ve got people in your corner. People that really care about you.”

Cas felt the tell-tale sting behind his eyes, unwelcome tears threatening to roll down his face at Charlie’s sincerity. He moved onto the next row, allowing him to see Charlie where she was hunched over, looking at a box on the bottom shelf. She grabbed a folder out of the box, standing and turning to face him quickly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Found it!”

*

Once everyone was seated in the library, Charlie opened the folder she had found. Inside, there was an old roll of film. They set up a projector that was in the corner of the room, dimmed the lights and watched the Men of Letters home video.

The film was grainy, black and white. It depicted the inside of a church, opening on a shot of a priest sitting on a staircase and smoking a cigarette. A woman spoke to him,  _ Simon, this new ritual we’re going to see, this new type of exorcism, h-how does it work? _ and he answered,  _ I don’t know. It’s my first time. _

“The woman sounds familiar,” Gabe spoke just loud enough to be heard over a different woman screaming in the background of the film. The shot changes, showing the woman who had spoken reflected in a mirror, holding the camera. 

Sam speaks up, “It’s Abbadon.”

Cas shakes his head, “No, she’s too...soft. It’s Josie. This must be from before she was possessed.”

A different priest was there, an older man than Simon, urging them to begin the exorcism. The camera panned over, showing a woman, a demon, chained to the ground, struggling against chains, spell work etched onto the manacles. Josie kept the camera pinned on the priests, the older man grabbing a water bottle, throwing holy water on the demon. The priest began to speak in Latin, the beginnings of an exorcism as the younger priest held out a rosary, fear apparent on his face. Josie zoomed in on his shaking hand. 

The exorcism seemed standard right up until the older priest brought out a knife, slicing his palm open. He moved forward, slapping his hand over the demon’s mouth. Immediately a white light exploded from within her, shining out through her eyes and beneath the hand covering her mouth, so bright it consumed the entire shot, screen blank. As the light subsided, it showed Josie’s face, scared and concerned, before turning the camera back around to show the possessed woman flat on her back, eyes cold and lifeless, heart burned out of her chest. Simon looked to be on the edge of a breakdown. The priest jumped forward towards Josie holding the camera, telling her to stop filming. The film in the projector ran out.

“That wasn’t a standard exorcism,” Sam leaned forward in his seat, “They changed to wording.”

Cas shifted in his chair to face him, nodding his head slightly, “Lustra. Latin for  _ wash  _ or  _ cleanse. _ Charlie, was there only the one film roll in that folder?

She shook her head as she reached for the folder next to her. “Well, yes and no. Only film, but there are a handful of audio tapes. All dated. I did some searching through the records that managed to be put onto the network, and it seems Father Thompson, that’s the old guy, recorded all his  _ experiments _ or whatever you wanna call them. Apparently, he was pretty outspoken about his belief that he could...cure a demon.” 

Cas felt all eyes turn on him, just for a moment, before flicking away. He could feel his heart racing, trying to bust through his rib cage. He breathed in and out deeply through his nose, trying to calm down.

Sam wordlessly disappeared into the control room for a brief moment before returning with an old school audio player. He and Charlie set up one of the recordings.

“This is the last one he recorded,” Sam said, the only preamble to him hitting play.

The next several minutes were filled with listening to the tape, Father Thompson’s commentary on attempting to purify the demon possessing Mr. Kent, who had apparently eaten his vessel’s children and loved every second of it. The recording progressed cyclically; Father Thompson would ask the demon how it felt to eat Mr. Kent’s children, and when the response was as demonic as one could imagine, the Father would refer to administering a dose of something he never named.

“Charlie, do you know what he was dosing the demon with?” Cas asked softly, still listening to the recording. He could hear her typing briefly.

“Ick. His own purified blood.” 

Cas heard the disgusted look on her face without even having to turn around to see her. 

“Purified how?” Sam asked her.

“Went to confession immediately before this.”

The recording continued on in the same way. Every hour there would be an update. Same question, same response. Nothing changed until the 10th dose.

The demon cried out, not in pain, but in desperation. He was begging Father Thompson to stop. The tone changed. Cas could hear heavy breathing in the background, and then the recording was quiet.

Father Thompson indicated they had reached hour eight and that the subject was prepped. Cas could hear the sound of holy water sizzling against the demon’s skin as Thompson begins speaking Latin, the same incantation from the film earlier. After a pause, he asks the same question he had been repeating for the entire recording. But the demon’s answer was no longer crass, rude, or explicit. It was genuinely broken, overwhelmingly sad. The demon couldn’t understand why he had laughed as he ate the children. Cas’s jaw dropped. He heard Sam swear under their breath. The demon  _ apologized _ , repeating his regret over and over, calling himself a monster.

“What the fuck?” Gabe breathed in disbelief.

The last voice on the tape was Father Thompson:

“ _ You are saved.” _

Cas stood immediately, chair scraping against the floor, loud and shrill. He tore down the hallway to the room he’d been staying in, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing the number as he walked. Despite Cas whispering desperately for the call to be picked up, it rang through to voicemail. Cas was packing his bag, throwing in a change of clothes, and throwing it over his shoulder. The voicemail recording prompted him to leave a message after the beep.

“Hello, Dean. We need to talk.”


	15. Chapter 15

Cas left the bunker immediately after finishing the voicemail to Dean. Shortly after, he felt his phone vibrate in his hand, a text from Dean with an address, the location Dean wanted to meet. He wasn’t too far, about a day’s drive at most. Cas needed to see him.

Besides a short nap at a gas station about halfway, Cas didn’t stop, making it to the motel parking lot just as night was beginning to fall. He felt a fire burning behind his ribs, his whole body shaking with excitement. Dean wouldn’t be rid of the Mark, but he wouldn’t be a demon any longer. He’d be  _ human. _

Cas double checked the room number Dean had given him. He knocked, and the door opened almost immediately. He saw Dean’s arm reaching forward, snatching the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him inside. Dean didn’t say a word as he kicked the door closed and pressed Castiel’s back against it, trapped by Dean’s chest, his arms boxed around his head. Dean wasted no time. His arms moved down Castiel’s body, one hand loose around his neck, the other clenched on Cas’s hip, thumb sneaking under his shirt. Cas felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. A guttural groan ripped out of his chest at the feeling of Dean’s too warm skin pressed against his own. He looked up into Dean’s eyes, hypnotized by the color, his favorite shade of green. He watched the perfect pink lips part, tongue flicking out to wet them. Dean’s voice was rough, deeper than usual.

“Hey there, Angel.”

Cas moaned, surging forward to connect their lips. It had been weeks since he felt like this, felt his blood boiling under his skin, felt the overwhelming desire to devour every inch of Dean Winchester. He was addicted to the taste of the man’s lips, the feel of his skin pressed against his own. To think he’d been without this since they saw each other at the barn, he truly understood the magnitude of what he wanted from Dean.

He wanted everything. He wanted to save him. To know the  _ real _ him. The knowledge that he was so close sobered him. He pulled away, hands covering Dean’s on his hips and breaking the contact. Dean was incorrigible, lips reattaching to Castiel’s collar bone, nipping and sucking, leaving a trail of marks barely visible under his collar.

“Dean,  _ stop _ . I need to talk to you,” Cas tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair, tugging slightly to try convincing him to detach from his neck. He could feel Dean nip at his ear lobe, breathing heavily.

“But I  _ missed  _ you.  _ Cas…” _

“ _ Dean,” _ he managed to slip out of the demon’s grasp, desperately trying to slow his breath and calm the erection straining painfully against his jeans. 

He backed into the center of the room, watching Dean hunched over the door still, back heaving while trying to calm down himself. He finally turned around, running his hands through his hair, mussing it even more than Cas had. Despite obvious signs of arousal, Dean threw on a lazy smile, looking at Cas across the room.

“Business, then pleasure, huh? I’ll play nice. What did you need to talk to me about, that we couldn’t have done over the phone?” Dean meandered over to the bed, falling back onto it with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed. When Cas didn’t speak, he rolled over onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. He looked up expectantly.

“I know you’re Men of Letters,” Cas looked down, watching the way Dean’s eyebrow ticked up so slightly, caught off guard. 

He quickly schooled his face back into the portrait of nonchalance before smiling fakely back up at him.

“So are you. So what?”

Cas was surprised to know that Dean already knew Cas was a legacy, but didn’t worry about it. The whole purpose of this meeting was to tell him everything, so it was on the list to mention regardless.

“So,” Cas continued, arms crossed as he looked down at Dean, “we found the Kansas bunker." 

Dean sat up at that.

“ _ Seriously? _ Where is it?”

Cas began to laugh, “Fucking Lebanon. Right under our nose the whole time. Sam had the key. Said your dad gave it to him a bit before he passed.”

Dean huffed, “Of course Dad gave Sam the fucking key. Whatever. So what’s so important about the bunker?”

Cas had been thinking the entire trip how to talk about this to Dean. The last time they had spoken, Dean had tried to convince Cas to stop tracking Abbadon, and of course, Castiel had done no such thing.

"The amount of lore, the research on the supernatural, that's been amassed there is…staggering. We found a video. Your grandfather Henry was in it. Abbadon managed to possess a woman named Josie Sands. Slated to become the new liaison after her initiation. The night of, however—" 

"Lemme guess," Dean cut in, "Abbadon slaughtered 'em all."

Cas tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed with confusion. "You seem to have all the answers today. I thought I was going to be bringing you useful information."

Dean laughed, soft and breathy, "Yeah well, I ain't just a pretty face. Research was always more Sammy's thing, but that didn't mean I was  _ bad _ at it. Just not a fan."

Dean pushed away from the bed, moving to the corner of the room where a military duffel was discarded on the floor, clothes and books spilling out the unzipped opening. He dug through the contents momentarily before standing back up, a worn, leather-bound journal in hand. "Dad kept a journal. When Henry told him about what happened that night, he wrote the whole thing down in here," he paused for a moment, flipping through the yellowed pages of the journal. "Yeah, here it is. Talks a bit about having to 'protect the secrets at all cost, family responsibility', whole nine yards." 

Dean passed the journal to Cas, their fingers glancing over each other. Cas pulled the journal back quickly, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself if he became...distracted by the tension between them again.

Cas scanned over the pages, a near perfect transcript of the events he had witnessed on the video the day before. There were references to case files that Cas made mental notes of, to look into when he made it back to the bunker. When he finished the passage, he closed the journal, setting it on the nearby table in the corner of the motel room.

"So your dad realized after your mother was killed that the Kansas bunker wasn't an isolated incident."

"Bingo."

Cas paced around the room, thinking through everything, all the new information that had been dumped on him in a short period of time. He was overwhelmed, collapsing onto the end of the bed. He rested his face in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. His eyes were closed, sorting through everything.

"How did you know I was a legacy?" Cas asked, eyes still closed tight. 

"Dad had managed to track down a good bit of the legacies and their families. He was trying to figure out the pattern of the attacks. He had a pretty long list of members collected before he died. I was just continuing the list he had. That's why I was there that night. I had managed to track Abbadon to Pontiac which was basically just a retirement community for members. Your family was the only  _ active _ family in the area."

Cas sat up, looking at Dean, "Do you know why she's targeting members?"

He shook his head before moving closer to Cas, standing directly in front of him. He climbed up onto the bed on his knees, straddling Castiel. Cas felt his hands move of their own accord, resting on Dean's hips as Dean lowered himself onto Cas's lap, winding his arms around his neck.

"Not a clue," Dean whispered, bringing his lips to Cas's ear. Castiel could feel himself hardening as Dean ground down onto him, "Enough business, Angel. Time for some fun."

Dean bit down on Cas’s neck, enough pressure for it to be on the right side of painful. A moan bubbled up from his chest at the sensation. He couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of Dean’s mouth on him.

“Why do you, ahh...why do you call me angel?” Cas managed to ask, despite every sensation causing his mind to go blank. He was holding onto Dean’s hips with bruising force, afraid he would float away without something to ground him, something tangible to remind him this was  _ real _ .

Dean answered between bites and kisses scattered across Cas’s neck, his jaw, “Crowley told me the origin of your name,  _ Angel of Thursday _ . Thought it was fitting.” Dean tangled his fingers in Castiel’s hair, pulling him forward. Their lips were close, so close, to touching. Cas tilted his chin up, desperate to feel them pressed against his, but Dean tightened the hold on his hair, keeping them apart.

Cas growled, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean before standing enough to flip them over. Dean huffed as the air was forced out of his lungs when he dropped back onto the bed. He looked startled at first, looking up at Castiel on the edge of vulnerability. It wasn’t long until the look on his face was replaced with aroused amusement.

“That’s more like it, sweetheart,” he groaned, voice rough with excitement. 

Cas leaned forward, pressing their hips together, the evidence of their mutual arousal almost painfully apparent. They moaned in unison at the friction, regardless of how slight. Cas bit at Dean’s bottom lip before kissing him fully, pushing him back into the bed with force. He swallowed Dean’s greedy moans. Their hands wandered, wanting to touch every inch of each other. Cas slid a hand up under Dean’s shirt as Dean slipped his down the back of Castiel’s jeans, grabbing his ass and pushing him closer. Their cocks slotted together through the denim, causing Cas to hesitate as Dean hissed through his teeth at the sensation. His eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.

Cas pulled away.

It was nearly painful to separate himself from Dean, heart pounding, aching to reach out and touch the man again. But he couldn’t. He had to tell Dean everything first.

“Come back, Cas,” Dean whined, hips bucking up in search of relief, finding nothing but empty air.

Cas let out a shuddering breath, “I found a cure.”

Dean’s demeanor changed so quickly, it was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. He sat up instantly, rage in his eyes. Cas had never seen him look like this, look so unhinged.

“You  _ what?”  _ Dean’s tone demanded answers. Cas took slow steps backwards, hands in front of him in a pleading, placating gesture, begging Dean to calm down and listen to him.

“At the bunker. There’s a tape, back in the 50s, the Men of Letters found a priest that cured a demon, Dean. We can-”

Dean stood up, moving forward, closing the distance between them, eyes black as night, no trace of the green Cas wanted to drown in.

“No, Cas. I  _ told _ you. No cure. I thought you understood. But of course you don’t. You haven’t seen what I have, haven’t  _ done  _ the things  _ I’ve done. _ ” Dean was furious. 

He grabbed a lamp off the side table, ripping the cord from the wall and tossing it across the room, a scream of anger bursting out of him. Cas could feel the pain and the hurt at Dean's infuriating unwillingness to listen to reason boiling inside of him. How dare he be so selfish?

“ _ No,”  _ Cas snapped, “You don’t know a thing about me. You don’t know what I’ve done either. You don’t get to decide to abandon the people that care about you because _ you _ can’t deal with the consequences of your own actions. You need to grow the fuck up, Dean,” He moved closer to Dean, accusatory finger pointed at him with malice, “You think it’s hard for you. Do you know how hard it is for Sam? He has no one. He needed his brother, and you gave up,” he grabbed Dean by the collar, throwing him backwards onto the bed once again. He wrapped his hand around the demon’s throat and bent over him, their faces inches apart. “What about me, Dean? Do you know how hard this is for me?  _ Let me help you!”  _ His teeth were bared, begging with Dean through gritted teeth. 

The black drained from Dean’s eyes, but was quickly replaced with something darker, lust and hate and rage all rolled into one. He fought against the grip Cas had on his neck, breaking free and pressing their lips together once again. It was more than just unbridled lust this time though. It wasn’t the longing in Castiel’s gut that had him allowing Dean to rip the button down open, buttons scattering across the bed. Cas wanted to punish Dean, wanted him to understand how badly he needed him, how much it hurt to know he didn’t want Cas more than he wanted to be a demon. Dean sat up as he pushed Cas’s shirt off his shoulders, allowing Cas to grab the back of Dean’s shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement.

He looked down at Dean’s heaving chest, covered in freckles. Cas bowed his head, biting the skin above his anti-possession tattoo. Dean’s hips thrusted up, desperate for friction. Cas growled, hands flying to Dean’s exposed hips, holding him in place.

“ _ Cas _ ,” Dean purred as Cas moved down, teasing at Dean’s nipples with his tongue. 

Dean grabbed at his hair, pulling with all his strength in a hopeless attempt to take control of the situation. He gave up, laying an arm over his face with the other slung out to the side. Cas continued down Dean’s torso, biting and sucking, tasting every inch of exposed skin. When he got to the waistband of Dean’s jeans, he made quick work of the button and zipper. He pulled them down to his knees, along with his underwear, freeing Dean’s cock. He heard Dean exhale above him, shallow and shaky. He was propped up on his elbows, looking down at Castiel kneeling between his legs. His face was flushed, throwing his freckles into sharp relief. His eyes were lidded, dark and hungry.

Dean reached for Castiel again, fingers in his hair, pulling him forward, desperate for something,  _ anything _ . His cock was curved up, hard and leaking onto his stomach. Cas wouldn’t let him take control, grabbing Dean’s wrist and breaking his hold. He reached between his own legs, squeezing himself through his jeans in hopes of alleviating some of the pressure building deep in his stomach at the sight of Dean hard and needy in front of him. 

Cas pulled Dean’s clothes off the rest of the way, leaving him bare on the bed in front of him. He pushed his knees up, exposing him fully to Cas. Without hesitation, he buried his face between Dean’s legs, lapping at his hole hungrily. Dean was squirming above him, whining, moaning. Cas continued to tongue at him while he slowly teased a finger into him, spit easing the way. As Dean’s muscles began to loosen, Cas worked him open, sliding another finger in beside the first. 

Dean exhaled sharply above him, stomach contracting as he sat up just enough to watch. Castiel continued to open him up as perfunctorily as possible, refusing to touch his prostate in spite of Dean angling his hips, wanting nothing more than for Cas to hit that perfect spot. He was panting heavily, slack jawed, pupils blown wide with want, with  _ need. _ Cas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, easing in a third finger while Dean keened above him.

“ _ Cas _ , yes... _ yes.”  _ Dean fell back onto the bed, a litany of  _ yes  _ and  _ please _ tumbling from his lips. 

Cas pulled away from Dean, ignoring his whines of protest. He stood, pressing a palm against his erection, hissing at the pressure. Dean pushed up on the bed, leaning over briefly to reach into the side table’s drawer, throwing a small bottle to the end of the bed in Castiel’s direction. 

Cas undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down his legs. He stepped out of them, moving forward to the end of the bed. He grabbed the small bottle of lube Dean had tossed his way, popping the lid. He moved forward on his knees, coming to rest between Dean’s legs. Dean's hand was loosely wrapped around his cock, just barely squeezing at the base. Cas mirrored his movements, trying to stave off his orgasm as long as possible. 

Cas poured some of the lube into his hand, coating himself in the liquid. He used the excess to finger Dean again before grabbing his hips and pulling him forward, ass resting in Castiel’s lap. Dean's body had gone limp, looking up at Castiel softly. Cas had never seen Dean look like this, hard edges shaved away, cocky bravado gone, submitting to anything Castiel might choose to do to him. Cas felt his anger resurface at the innocence on Dean’s face. Cas wanted this all the time. Dean was too selfish to admit he wanted the same. He lined himself up with Dean’s entrance, pushing forward to bottom out in one steady thrust.

“ _ God…” _ Cas groaned, tight, wet, heat enveloping him fully. 

Dean’s eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as he exhaled, deep and slow. Cas was still, giving Dean time to adjust and breathing through his impending orgasm, the feeling of being inside Dean for the first time overwhelming him. He fell forward on his hands, Dean tilting his chin up to him, trying to bring their mouths together. Cas couldn’t do it. He pushed back up onto his knees, gripping Dean’s thighs. He pulled out, almost entirely, before slamming back in. Dean moaned, wide eyes staring up at Castiel in awe. Cas continued to move, snapping his hips to meet Dean’s with a punishing pace. He wrapped one hand around Dean’s cock, leaning back onto his heels to keep his balance.

The change in angle allowed Cas to perfectly hit Dean’s prostate, a groan ripping out of him. Dean began to mutter under his breath, too quiet for Cas to make out anything besides the occasional  _ please, God, Cas.  _ Cas tightened his hand around Dean, pumping in time with his thrusts. It wasn’t much longer until Cas felt Dean’s hole clench around him as he came, his own climax building quickly as he watched the evidence of Dean’s orgasm coat his stomach, cock twitching as the last of his spend dripped down his length. Cas pulled out, stroking himself through his own orgasm, watching with rapt attention as his cum mixed with Dean’s coating his stomach. Castiel felt the post orgasm exhaustion coming on quickly, collapsing next to Dean on the bed, one arm slung around his waist.

The room was silent, except for their labored breaths. Once Cas’s heartbeat had slowed, he stood slowly, making his way to the bathroom to get a damp cloth. As he wiped Dean down, silently, he felt any remnants of his anger dissipating. If Dean didn’t want to be saved, Castiel wouldn’t press it. He was being selfish himself by putting what he wanted before what Dean did. Castiel would take what he could get with Dean. Part of him was better than nothing at all.

Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s shoulder as he settled back onto the bed. Dean still hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound.

Cas propped himself up on his side, eyes searching for some sort of reaction from Dean. He was still on his back, eyes closed. There was a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, and Cas couldn't help leaning forward and pressing their lips together. It was soft, the post coital haze still hanging heavy around them, drastically lessening the tension that had become standard between them in the bliss. Cas pulled away, watching as Dean’s eyes slowly opened, sleepy, sated smile blinding Castiel in the dimly lit motel room.

“Mom used to tell me every night that angels were watching over me. Guess she was right, huh?” Dean’s voice was wrecked, overuse followed immediately by disuse causing his words to come out gravelly and deep.

Cas smiled down at him, fingers dancing across his skin, making the most of the time he had with Dean like this, on the brink of regaining his humanity. Maybe this could be enough.

“Okay,” Dean spoke so quietly, Cas almost didn’t hear him.

“Okay, what?” 

“Cure me. We can head to the bunker in the morning.”

Cas was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. Gratitude washed over him, a feeling he couldn’t name expanded in his chest. He rolled on top of Dean, straddling his hips. He pulled his face towards him, trying to convey his thanks, his relief with the kiss. He could feel Dean smiling into the kiss, felt his arms wrapping around his back, bringing them closer, bodies flush together. Cas broke away, taking in the sight of those eyes, knowing soon enough, he would never have to see them black again.

“Thank you,” Cas whispered, burying his face in Dean’s neck. Dean pushed him onto his back, laughing.

“Yeah, yeah. For a big scary hunter, you’re such a sap.” Dean smiled at him.

“Look who’s talking,” Cas wrapped an arm around Dean, pressing Dean’s back to his chest. He pulled the blanket out from under them, “Sleep now. I’ll watch over you.” Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck, falling asleep quickly. He hadn’t felt this content in a long time.


	16. Chapter 16

Sun streaming in from the cracks in the blinds woke Castiel slowly the next morning. He could feel the pleasant ache left over from the night before in his legs and stomach. He was comfortably warm under the motel comforter and hesitant to open his eyes. Opening his eyes meant he had to get up, meant he had to head back to the bunker. Knowing Dean wanted to try the cure made the upcoming drive seem marginally better at least. 

He reached out blindly for Dean, wanting to curl up behind him again, desperate for the comfort he brought Cas, the deep feeling of  _ rightness _ that grew every time he saw him.

He felt nothing but cold sheets next to him.

Cas's eyes snapped open. His heart rate began to pick up in his panic. He threw the sheets off of him, standing to go check if he was in the bathroom, but he found the door propped open and empty. He felt bile rise in his throat, unable to believe that Dean would have just left after last night. It wasn't until he looked to the floor in the corner where Dean had left his bag and found it empty that the reality began to settle in.

Dean was gone.

Cas walked back over to the bed, pulling on his clothes as he went. He saw a piece of motel stationery folded with his name in a tidy scrawl facing up on the bedside table. He picked it up, unfolded it carefully. Surely, it would say Dean had just run out for breakfast. That he would be back soon and then they could head to the bunker together.

There were a few hastily scribbled sentences inside. As Cas scanned over the words, he felt his legs give. He sat down heavily at the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees.

_ I'm sorry. I thought I knew what I wanted but the Mark…it won't let me have it. Please, Castiel.  _

_ Save me. _

_ * _

Cas drove recklessly on the way back to the bunker, periodically calling Dean, to no avail. At first, the calls would ring all the way through. After a while, he was sent straight to voicemail.

He never left a message.

" _ Goddammit!"  _ he shouted, throwing his phone across the car to the passenger seat. He parked outside the bunker, leaning his head onto the steering wheel trying to calm himself down before heading inside.

Gabe and Sam were still up, huddled in the library, talking softly to each other. They looked up when Castiel walked down the stairs, dropping his bag on the map table.

"Where's Deano?" Gabe asked. "There's pizza in the kitchen if you two are hungry."

Castiel stood in the doorway to the library, freshly broken phone in hand, staring down at it resolutely. 

"He's gone."

"What do you mean _he's_ _gone_?" Sam looked up at him, worry etching lines across his forehead.

Cas reached into his pocket, pulling out the crushed note Dean had left him. He walked over to the table, setting it between Sam and Gabe before making his way through to the bunker's kitchen, grabbing a beer. 

Cas leaned against the metal island, draining half his beer in one long draw. He felt empty. Defeated. Dean was gone, wouldn't answer his phone. There was no telling which direction he had headed after leaving the motel, and Cas had no idea when he left, no clue how long he had been traveling. 

Cas was thankful Gabe and Sam didn't try to follow him, unready to face whatever emotion they came at him with. He didn’t know if it would be worse to see pity or happiness.

As if he took the last few remaining sips of his beer, Castiel thought back on the night before, the anger, then acceptance, pure joy when Dean had agreed to try the cure. He felt in his gut that Dean was telling the truth, about wanting to be human again. Castiel was overwhelmed by his feelings for Dean. It's a thin line that separated love and hate after all. All the time he had spent getting to know Dean, learning the truth of the night he lost his parents, beginning to know the man behind the Mark of Cain...Dean had the brightest soul of any person Cas had encountered over the years. Dean had helped Castiel, given him Abbadon's name, gifted him with the ability to  _ truly _ avenge his parents, saved him from continuing a fruitless revenge quest hunting the wrong man. And now Castiel wanted,  _ needed _ , to return the favor.

Cas had tracked Dean down once before. He could do it again.

Determination coursing through his veins, Cas pulled out his phone with such force, a shard of broken glass cut into his skin. He ignored it. Pulling up Dean’s number, he hit call. Straight to voicemail. He waited for the beep this time.

“Dean, I know you think you have no choice in this, that the Mark is stronger than you. You’ve accepted your fate. But I  _ haven’t _ .” Castiel’s voice was hard and rough. He wouldn’t allow Dean to continue his self-deprecation, continue thinking he was hopeless to break the hold the Mark held over him. “This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith,” he laughed mirthlessly into the phone, “I  _ will _ find you. And I swear to you, I  _ will _ save you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story. It means the world to me that anyone would take time out of their day to read this. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Now, before the cliffhanger freaks anyone out, there WILL be a sequel and I have already started working on it. The more I wrote for this bang, the longer the overall story became and now here I am, several months after beginning my work on this piece, and I have an outline for 2 more parts. I truly hope you all stick around to read the rest of it. Subscribe to the series to get updates when I post the next part, which should be fairly soon, as the first chapter is already ready to go!
> 
> Once again, thank you to everyone that encouraged me throughout this process, my amazing beta and artist, and every single one of you that read it. I can't express the joy that this fandom has brought me.


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